


Mockingbird

by thesoulsailor



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: M/M, ashton is ashton honestly, blind!luke, highschool!au, jock!calum, punk!michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 43,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesoulsailor/pseuds/thesoulsailor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It was then that Michael realised two things. First off the boy on the ground was gorgeous. All fair skin and scrawny limbs, golden hair styled into a faux hawk and mesmerising eyes, coloured a clear, sharp blue. He was breath-taking in a subtle way that didn't call for attention. Secondly the boy on the ground wore a yellow band around his upper arm, three black spots explaining why he wasn't fighting back. He couldn't. The boy was beautiful. The boy was blind.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>or Luke is blind, Michael is new and everything after they meet is nothing one of them would've ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Time To Shine My Rusty Halo

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> [tumblr version of this edit plus fic rec](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com/post/111435777066/mockingbird-by-thesoulsailor-on-ao3-summary-it)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the idea for this baby came to me on a very long, very boring car trip and was also partially inspired from the moment in the Amnesia video when Michael is standing on the hood of the car, looking down on the city. Yes, that one. 
> 
>  
> 
> The lovely [Cat](http://cliffordevil.tumblr.com/) made this fic a [playlist on 8tracks](http://8tracks.com/capncatherine/leave-me-blind) that is perfect to listen to while reading this. Also check out [this amazing trailer!!](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com/post/135108041886/cliffordsugarx-mockingbird-trailer-okay-so)
> 
>  
> 
> Chapter title lifted from "Rusty Halo" by The Script. As always this is a work of fiction, don't forward it to the boys or godforbid their families. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Michael entered school with vans dragging across tile and purple headphones in his ears. The shoes had been a gift from his mother because of the move. The headphones had been a gift from his father because he hadn’t moved with them. Not that Michael was bitter about the divorce of his parents. Frankly, he knew it had been a long time coming.

So he hadn’t said a word when his mother had told him to detach the posters from the walls of his old bedroom. He hadn’t said a word on the seven hour drive to the new flat in the new town, their “fresh start, you will love it, Michael”. He hadn’t said a word as he had pinned all his posters back on white walls and piled moving box after moving box on light wooden floor. He had only grunted when the movers had broken his bed frame, leading to him sleeping on a mattress on the floor of his new, smaller room for the last two weeks of his summer holidays. Not that Michael minded either way. Bundling yourself up and marathoning the entirety of _Catfish: The TV show_ worked half a metre closer to the ground just as well. Plus, this way he had been able to build a fort out of moving cartons to hide behind. It was astounding, really, how well cardboard managed to blend out his mother's voice.  

Making his way through the hoards of students — all hyped up, all excited for the first day of school — Michael felt multiple gazes lingering on him as he walked down the hallway. It didn't quite faze him. He was simply used to it.

For a moment, Michael pondered what made the people stare more. The purple and pink, his “galaxy” hair as Libby called it, or the eyebrow piercing. In the end, it were probably both. In the end, he felt nothing but satisfaction at the scandalised stares.

Michael wasn't like the other boys here with their squeaky-clean sneakers, khakis and polo shirts. Michael was dyed-hair, oversized sweaters and ripped skinny jeans. He was blasting punk rock and nicotine stench on his fingers — a boy named Gideon had given him his first blowjob and the addiction, receiving Michael's first broken heart in return. He had always been proud of his alterity, had flaunted it like others their new phones, soccer wins, girlfriends. Even if the last one had ever been a possibility for him. But the main perk of being a misfit had always been that nobody came to the idea of messing with him because of his sexuality. The kids at his old school had always been too afraid that he would shave their dog. Which was a stupid rumour. Andy Stevens was an idiot.

Ripping one of the earbuds out of his ear,  he pulled open the door to his left. The administrative office was almost empty, save for a bored looking student's assistant and an obese lady stapling papers in the background. The student's assistant perked up upon his arrival at her desk, a grin splitting her admittedly pretty face in two halves.

"Hi!" Her eyes flicked to his hair, swept over his body before meeting his eyes. "You're the new kid, right?"

"Uh..."

The girl nodded. "Thought so.” Beaming she extracted her hand. “Hi, I'm Kayla, but you can call me Kay."

Michael wouldn't call her Kay. "Michael."

Kayla grinned. "Nice to meet you! Here let me..."

She rummaged for a few seconds before piling a stack of books, a bag of gummi bears and a few paper sheets on the countertop between them. "Since you’re new and all, Mrs Johnson already collected your books for you. You just have to write them down on your book card. The loose papers are your time table, the school rules and a map of the school, in case you get lost. Which I wouldn't worry too much about, obviously you can always ask someone for directions." Kayla shot him a blinding smile.

"What are the gummi bears for?"

"Oh, those you can share with your friends."

Suppressing a snort, Michael shoved the pile into his backpack. "Alright, then. Thank you."

"No problem!" Kayla beamed at him. "Have fun on your first day!"

This time Michael did snort.

*

Surprisingly, he ended up surviving the first half of his first day without any major incidents. The curious looks from the other students continued on, but none of them were actually brave enough to say anything to him, so Michael gladly filed his peers away under "Minor Annoyances, To Be Ignored." The teachers were acceptable. Not one of them forced him to introduce himself at the front or even commented on the way he looked. It was endurable which was more than he had expected.

Itching for a cigarette, Michael made his way to the backside of the gym. He had a good five minutes before his next class would start, so he found himself a nook and fished lighter and a half-full pack of cigarettes out if his backpack.

He had just placed the cigarette between his lips when his silence was disturbed. A couple of feet to his right, two boys crowded a third against the wall. Which was _odd_ given the fact that the two bullies were only about half the size of the third boy, seventh year max, whereas the victim was about Michael's age, maybe a year younger. But instead of slapping the younger kids out of the way like Michael would have, the third boy just let himself be pushed to the ground, curling into a ball. One of the kids stole his backpack and emptied its contents onto the concrete, while the other lambasted him. It was then that Michael realised two things.

First off the boy on the ground was gorgeous. All fair skin and scrawny limbs, golden hair styled into a faux hawk and mesmerising eyes, coloured a clear, sharp blue. He was breath-taking in a subtle way that didn't call for attention. Secondly the boy on the ground wore a yellow band around his upper arm, three black spots explaining why he wasn't fighting back. He couldn't. The boy was beautiful. The boy was blind.

Michael felt the blood boiling in his veins.

"Hey!" He threw the cigarette on the ground and sprinted over, pulling the two kids away by their necks, shaking them angrily. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The two kids gaped up at him, sneers fading from their faces, fear filling their eyes.

 _Cowards._ Of course they were. Who struck on the idea of beating up the blind kid?

The boys struggled to escape his grip, causing him to just hold them tighter. Fuming Michael bent down to be on eye-level with them. "Listen, you little shitheads. If I ever see you near him again, I will beat you up so thoroughly that your mummies will roll you to school in a wheelchair, understood?"

The boys nodded.

"I want to know if you have understood that?"

"Y-yes, sir."

Michael shot them both a mirthless grin. "Great! Now get lost or I’m gonna rip your sick fucking heads off and shove them up your arseholes."

With a detesting sneer he shoved them to the ground. The boys scrambled to their feet and were gone within seconds. Michael didn’t bother to look after them. Hastily he turned to the boy lying on the ground. “Shit, mate, are you okay?”

The boy whimpered as Michael laid a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, I swear I’m not gonna hurt you. My name is Michael. Did they hurt you? Is anything broken? Do you think you can stand?”

Carefully he slipped his hands under the boy’s armpits and pulled him to his feet. In lack of a better idea Michael leaned the boy against the brickwall, holding him place as it seemed the boy would simply drop back to the ground if he let go. Tears were pooling in the icy blue irides, pale fingers clinging to Michael’s upper arm, breath coming in short gasps.

“Hey, you’ll be okay, yeah. I got rid off them. What’s your name?”

Before the boy could answer, they were interrupted by shouts.

“Luke!”

“Oh my god, Lukey!”

Two boys in soccer jerseys ran towards them, having apparently split from a whole soccer team plus coach who were walking over the car park, coming from the direction of the outdoor stadium.

“Hey, thank god you’re-”

All air was knocked out of Michael’s lungs as he was shoved back against the wall, a mocha-skinned arm coming up to press against his neck.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” The newcomer spat in his face, anger setting his dark brown eyes ablaze.

“I… nothing, I was helping-”

“Calum.” The voice was quiet and exhausted and still shaky from crying, but immediately made the raven-haired boy look at him. The blind boy, Luke the others had called him, was held upright by the other new kid, a boy with tanned skin, dirty blonde curls and soft hazel eyes. Luke’s eyes were purposelessly searching the area where they were standing. “Let him go. He didn’t do anything. It were those kids again.” Luke reached out a hand.

Calum’s eyes grew soft and he let Michael go, in favor of taking the extracted hand and pulling the blind boy into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, Lukey. We should’ve been here earlier.”

“‘s not your fault.” Luke mumbled into the fabric of his friend’s jersey. Michael watched how the curly-haired boy joined his friends in the hug, the three of them huddling in. It made him equal parts happy and uncomfortable.

He was about to make his exit, when the raven-haired boy named Calum broke out of the hug and turned towards him, rubbing the back of his head.

“Hey, wait! Uhm… sorry, yeah? Didn’t mean to go all rough on your ass like that. I just thought you were messing with Luke.”

Michael shrugged. “It’s alright. . I made sure those kids won’t bother him again.”

Calum smiled, earnestly. “Thank you. I’m Calum.”

“Michael.” Michael said and shook the hand Calum had extracted. The other boy nodded and pointed at the other two. “Luke, Ashton.”

Ashton beamed at him, a small giggle - which somehow didn’t come off half as weird as it sounded - escaping his lips. “Nice to meet ya.”

Michael nodded and turned to pick up his backpack from where it had landed on the ground as he had sprinted to Luke’s rescue. When he returned Ashton and Calum had retrieved all of Luke’s stuff and put it back in the blind boy’s backpack, save for a single sheet of paper.

“Let’s see, your next class is... English. Do you need us to walk you there?”

“English in the west wing?” Michael heard himself ask.

Calum looked up at him. “Yeah, why?”

Michael smiled. _Of course._ “That’s my building. I can take him, if you want?”

“Uh..."

"Yes, please." Michael wasn't the only one who looked surprised when Luke spoke up, backpack clutched in one hand, the other coming up to wipe his running nose. He was wearing shades now, his smile missing Michael only for a few centimetres and fuck, he was so utterly beautiful. Michael swallowed. Calum and Ashton exchanged a look before Calum sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Fine with me."

Ashton nodded, pecking Luke on the cheek before he and Calum left, not without making sure twice that Luke was okay.

As soon as the two other boys had left, Michael turned around, rubbing the back of his neck. "So uhh... how do I?"

"Take my hand." Luke reached out a hand and Michael hurried to take it. Admittedly he might  squeezed a little hard. Luke laughed and intertwined their fingers. "First of all relax, I'm blind, not made out of glass. Just lead the way, and make sure to not steer us into a wall."

"Oh." Michael desperately needed to find his cool. "Yeah, makes sense."

Luke smiled into empty air and they began walking. Michael had a lot of questions but wasn't brave enough to ask any of them, so he settled on small talk instead. It was surprisingly easy, really, to talk to Luke. Despite being a bit shy at first the blind boy soon was rambling on and on about music he liked. Their tastes matched almost completely, a thing that amazed Michael beyond belief.

“Okay, All Time Low?”

“Please, _Dear Maria, Count Me In_ is my jam. Green Day?” Luke bit his lip as if the answer would have a heavy impact on the future of their friendship.

Michael laughed. “Religion! My Chemical Romance?”

“Meh, when I’m in the mood. They have ace lyrics though.”

“Same. MCR are my brooding music. Panic! At The … oh.”

“What? What is it?” Michael wanted to slap himself at the panicked tone to Luke’s voice. The younger boy clinged to his arm, hiding behind him.

“Shit, sorry, no, nothing’s wrong. It’s just we’re at the classroom.” Through the window in the door Michael could see the already bustling room.

“Oh, alright.” A dust of pink appeared on the blind boy’s cheeks. He coughed. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Reluctantly Michael detangled their fingers. “I guess this is it then.”

“Yeah.” Luke’s face turned towards the ground, a small crease appearing between his brows. “Thank you. Not just for walking me but also for… you know.” The blind boy waved his hand.

“Any time, mate, I mean it.” Michael said earnestly.

Before he knew what was happening, Luke had pulled him into a hug. Releasing a huff, Michael wrapped his arms around the younger boy’s shoulders, inhaling the faint scent of laundry detergent and lime shampoo. Luke’s chin was boring into his shoulder and Michael had to let go, heart pounding in his chest. Before it could get too awkward, he was walking backwards, pushing the single backpackstrap he was wearing up his shoulder. “See you around!”

Michael was already at the end of the hallway when he realised his mistake.

“Fuck!” He hissed and whirled around. Luke was still standing in front of the classroom door, hand on the handle, lips forming a small o. Michael was ready to run back and apologise when he saw Luke shake his head. Mumbling something he couldn’t understand, the blind boy disappeared through the door, a blinding smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	2. Use The Sleeves Of My Sweater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title lifted from "Sweater Weather" by The Neighbourhood. Man, I love that song. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The next time Michael saw Luke was two days later. Rain was pelting onto the asphalt of the school's car park. Michael tried to shield himself by holding his backpack over his head, hurrying towards his car - a metallic Benz that had appeared the day he had found Libby crying on his bedroom floor.

That was when he saw Luke standing at the gateway of the car park. The blind boy was soaked, blonde strands matted against his forehead, head swaying aimlessly around. Cursing Michael unlocked his car and threw his backpack on the backseat before slithering to the driver's side and steering out of the spot.

"Luke!" He called out as soon as he had stopped next to the other boy, opening the passenger door.

The blind boy startled, looking around frantically. "Michael?"

Ignoring the cars piling behind them, Michael pumped the handbrake and scurried out of the car, around the front to where the blind boy was standing.

"Shit, man, you’re drenched! What happened?"

"My phone died on me and now I can't call my mum to come pick me up." Luke explained as soon as Michael had slung an arm around his waist.

"Calum and Ashton?"

"Soccer training."

"Shit, okay, uhm... yes, don't worry! I'm gonna take you to mine and there you can charge it, alright?"

Luke nodded, wiping his nose. One of the cars behind them honked so Michael hurried to guide the blind boy onto the passenger seat. As soon as he was buckled in, Michael sprinted back to the driver's side and steered onto the streets. Luke was shivering so Michael turned up the heating.

"It should get warm in a minute."

“O-okay.”  Luke pressed out through chattering teeth. He was only wearing a button-down and chinos, the fabric glued to his skin.

"Shit, here let me..." Without taking his eyes off the streets, Michael reached out to the backseat. Blindly he groped for his backpack, struggling for a moment with the zipper. His PE hoodie was probably gross and sweaty but Michael figured it was still better than hypothermia.

“Here you can put that on.”

Luke sniffed."Thank you."

It was fascinating, really, to watch the blind boy put on clothes. In swift, nimble motions his fingers traced the outline of the fabric, making out the bottom hole within seconds. If it weren’t for the band around his upper arm and the black shades one couldn’t have made out that he was blind. For a moment, Michael asked himself, how Luke’s eyes weren’t milky. But then he supposed, he didn’t know the first thing about blindness. Maybe if they were proper friends he would be able to ask. Until then it would’ve been just rude.He turned up the radio instead. Luke pulled his knees to his chest, snuggling into the dry fabric, his head hitting the window with a low thud.

By the time Michael parked the car in front of his apartment building, it had stopped raining. Skipping over the puddles on the sidewalk he opened the car door for Luke, taking his hand and slinging an arm around his waist. It was only when they were standing in front of the frst set of wooden stairs, Michael looking up the narrow space inbetween the railings of the stairwell, that he realised they had a problem.

"Hey, Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"What is your attitude towards piggyback rides?"

"I love 'em, why?"

The blind boy shrieked when Michael tackled him in the middle and threw him over his shoulder.

"Michael!" Weak fists pounded against his back. "What are you doing?!"

"Third floor." Michael pressed out, ascending the first flight of stairs. "Would take ages to walk them normally. You'd be frozen to death by then."

Luke stopped his attack and grew silent. Wheezing Michael set the blind boy back on his feet as soon as they had reached the third floor.

The apartment building was small, only two flats per floor. The door with the number thirty-two was closed as always, no sound coming from behind it. With a flick of his wrist Michael turned the key and opened thirty-one, the sound of Yasmine's solo in Aladdin blasting onto the hallway.

"Libby!" Michael bellowed. “Turn it down a notch, would you?!”

The song broke off, followed by the thundering of sock-clad feet over parquet. The next second he had a nine year-old wrapped around his waist.

"Mikey! You’re home!”

He laughed. “Am, Princess. How was your day?”

“Meh.” His sister shrugged, waving her hand. Her eyes grew wide when she spotted Luke in the door frame.

“Who are you?”

The blind boy extracted his hand with a timid smile, his eyes swaying up and down, trying to locate the girl’s head. “I’m Luke, nice to meet you.”

Libby nodded at him. Her smile turned into a frown when Luke didn’t react to it. Questioningly she looked up at Michael who sighed. “Luke can’t see you, Libby.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Why?”

Michael felt his heart wrench. “He is blind.”

“Oh.” Twirling her dark hair in her hand, his sister shot Luke a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Luke crouched down and Libby took that as an invitation to skip over to him and pat his cheek. The blind boy beamed at the contact.

“So are you one of the boys Michael kisses?”

“Oh my god, Libby!” Horrified Michael plucked his sister away from the blind boy, sprinting into the living room and throwing her on the couch. “We’re in my room, don’t come in!”

He slung an arm around Luke’s waist and dragged him into his room, slamming the door shut behind them.

“Your sister seems nice.” Luke smiled, wincing when his shin hit the edge of a moving box.

“Sorry, I haven’t found time to unpack yet.” Carefully Michael steered the blind boy the rest of the way to his desk. “It’s kind of a maze in here. And yeah, Libby is my sanctum.”

Humming, Luke let himself be pushed onto the tabletop, drops of water landing on the wood. “I’ve got two older brothers. Both away at uni though. When did you move here?”

Michael’s hand stilled where it was rummaging through the top drawer of his dresser. “My parents divorced at the beginning of the summer.” He cleared his throat. “My mum was worried for a while, she was a housewife, you know, but then her friend offered her a share in her restaurant. Packed our bags and now we’re here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nah, it’s alright. I was over it before they realised they needed to separate. I’m just worried for Libby though. It’s hard on her. She’s only nine. How am I supposed to explain to her that dad’s not gonna be here for christmas? That mum’s gonna change her last name? That we’ll have to split the holidays from now on?”

“Wait. Did you just quote P!nk?”

“Oh my god, you asshole!” Scandalised Michael threw the clean hoodie and sweatpants he had found. Luke laughed. The clothes hit him square in the face, falling to the ground before he could catch them.

“Hey.” He pouted. “Don’t throw things at me. I’m blind.”

“You had it coming, Hemmings, and you know that.” Ignoring the slight fluttering in his stomach Michael picked up the clothes and pressed them into Luke’s hands, golden skin cold against his fingers.

“Do you need help?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Alright, I’m gonna turn around.”

Michael walked back to the dresser, pointedly ignoring the rustling of fabric and rasp of a zipper being opened. He used the time Luke needed to change to plug in the charger. After a few seconds the screen of Luke's phone lit up, revealing a selfie of Luke with a fake moustache, Ashton squishing his face into his, Calum sticking out his tongue in the background.

Michael smiled.

“Done.”

It gave Michael a weird feeling in his stomach, seeing the blind boy standing in front of his French window. Michael's clothes were slightly too big on him, the sleeves of Michael's hoodie dangling over his fingertips, sweats almost slipping from his hips. Sunlight made Luke's skin gleam, hair a blonde halo around his head, aimless cerulean gaze fixed on a spot slightly to the right. _So beautiful_ , Michael thought, _so fragile and helpless and utterly, utterly beautiful._

For the first time Michael was glad the other boy couldn't see him as this way he didn't run the risk of getting caught staring. He walked over and took the hand Luke had already reached out.

"Your phone's charging. Let's get thy all warmed up."

"Ah, Michael Clifford, I'd never taken you for a poet."

"One of my many hidden talents."

"I'll take it. Still glad you're not an axe murderer luring me into the woods to be honest."

"Libby!" Michael called out. "Plan Forest Fun is cancelled. Luke figured us out. Pack the chloroform away."

"You're weird!" Came the high-pitched answer.

Luke laughed. Michael flopped them down on his "bed".

"Guess I'm safe then?"

"Yep." Michael grinned, folding his legs underneath him. "You'll always be safe with me."

His heart almost stopped when he saw Luke's face fall.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” Luke smiled at him, but the sad curve was still there. “I just really wish I would know what you look like is all.”

“Oh.” Michael rubbed the back of his head. “You can touch my face and stuff, if you want?”

Luke laughed and Michael felt accomplished. “Sadly I can’t do that. I think only people who were born this way have that ability.”

Michael detected the implication of the sentence. So Luke hadn't always been blind. He filed that information away for later and gasped. “Even better. I can describe me!”

Luke bit his lip for a moment. Then he nodded. “Go for it!”

“Alright, alright.” Michael took the blind boy’s hands in his and guided them to his shoulders. “Well, I’m a little bit taller than you, but only an inch or so. My skin is really, really pale, but I pull it off.” Michael rubbed Luke’s thumbs over his cheeks. ”My face is round like the moon.” He moved on to pat his hair. “And my hair is a wild mix of purple and pink, Libby calls it “galaxy hair”.” Luke giggled at that, his fingers carding through the soft strands. “Lastly I’ve got blue eyes as well but they are not as pretty as yours. More greyish.” Luke’s cheeks turned pink at the compliment, making Michael grin even more. He perked up. “Oh and I have an eyebrow-piercing.”

Luke's finger nearly poked an eye out, flying to Michael's eyebrows. Lips formig a small o, Luke stroked over the small metal beads.

"Wow, that's so cool. I've always wanted a piercing but my mum won't allow it."

"Where?"

"Lips." He tapped a spot under the right end of his bottom lip.

"Punk rock."

"Not as punk rock as you."

Michael was definitely glad Luke couldn't see him right now.

Somehow they ended up sprawled out on Michael's bed, Michael typing away on his laptop, showing the younger boy music he had found, Luke lying half on top of him, his arms wrapped around Michael's middle, chin digging in his shoulder blade. Luke in general, Michael discovered quickly, was a very tactile person.

When asked about it, the blind boy just shrugged. "I've alway been touchy but now I need it. My hands are my eyes now. It calms me."

Michael exhaled deeply. "Good thing I love cuddling then."

A squeeze on his hip in response.

"Hey, Michael?" Luke asked three songs later.

"Yeah?"

"Might be selfish but ... I'm glad you moved here."

Michael turned his head, searching the icy irides that missed his gaze for only a few centimetres. He could do nothing bit agree.

 

It was raining again when the black family wagon pulled up to the side walk in front of Michael's apartment building.

"Black Ford?" Michael asked, blowing on his and Luke's entangled fingers to keep them warm.

Luke nodded. "Yep, that's my mum."

"Alright." Squinting because of the rain Michael steered them to the passenger door of the car, ripping it open with his free hand.

"Hi, Mrs Hemmings!"

The blonde-haired woman behind the steering wheel eyed him intently, her mouth pressed into a depreciating frown. Michael knew the look she was giving him. He used to play a game with his old friends, competing who could provoke more of these exact glances in a certain amout of time.

"I take it you are Michael then?"

"That's me." Michael was distracted for a moment by helping Luke onto the passenger seat, buckling him in. When he looked up again, Mrs Hemmings look had softened infinitesimally but was still scary as hell.

"Liz." Luke's mum pressed out.

"Mum!" Luke groaned. "Be nice, please. He didn't do anything."

"Well, yeah, sweetie, and what happened the last time you said that?"

Luke's lips went slightly ajar before he pressed them into a tight line. He shot Michael an apologetic smile, no mirth in his eyes. Michael squeezed his shoulder, signaling him that it was okay.

"Night, Lukey. Take care."

"I'm sorry." The blind boy mouthed. Audibly he added. "Night, Mikey."

A last squeeze, then Michael slammed the car door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	3. Fears Your Hopes The Whole Kaleidoscope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title lifted from "Kaleidoscope" by The Script which is actually a great song to describe Michael's feelings towards Luke. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Michael entered his homeroom with a yawn, the taste of his lunchbreak cigarette still heavy on his tongue. It was Friday afternoon and the room was bustling, everybody hyped up for the weekend, everybody hyped up for the obligatory "We survived the first week of school, let's get shitfaced!"-parties.

Michael secured himself an empty group table in the back and opened his History book. History had turned out to be the hardest of his classes. Which may or may not have been due to his teacher being the only member of staff who actively disapproved of Michael’s appearance. But since he didn’t give two shits about a bitter old bat who couldn’t handle a little hair dye, he would just prove her wrong by doing the homework and never being unprepared. Contrary to popular belief Michael actually was an acceptable student. Maybe a little weak in Calc but who wasn't?

He had just written down his first note when his earbuds were ripped out of his ears causing him to flinch.

"What the-" Startled he whirled around, searching for the culprit. Michael was met with twinkling hazel eyes and a smile bright enough to be found in a toothpaste ad.

"Ashton!"

"Michael!" The curly-haired boy beamed back, pulling him into a hug as tight as if they would have been old friends. Which they weren't. But the other boy had this thing to him. Michael couldn't help but relax into the touch.

"What are you doing here?"

"We have homeroom together, idiot." Fondly exasperated Ashton shook his head, curls barely contained by the grey bandana he had wrapped around his head. "Come sit with us."

Ashton motioned to a table at the other end of the room, packed with what Michael supposed to be other soccer players. Calum was sitting at the far end of the table. Legs sprawled out on the tabletop, he was busy emptying an entire bag of gummi bears into his mouth.

"Yeah... I think I'm gonna pass."

Ashton's eyes widened for a moment before he shrugged and flopped down on the chair opposite him.

"Eh, Ashton?"

"Yeah?"

"Won't your friends miss you?"

Ashton giggled. "Nah, dude, it's fine."

He patted Michael's underarm and turned his attention to his phone. Not two minutes later, Calum joined them. Chewing, he offered Michael some gummi bears.

Meanwhile he said. "I heard what you did for Luke yesterday. Thank you."

Michael picked a hand-full of white and green sweets and nodded. "No problem."

"Mhm." Calum run his tongue over his teeth in search for any remnants. After he had swallowed what he had found, he fixed Michael with an unempathic look. "Okay, I'm gonna be completely honest with you, alright?"

"Uh- sure?"

"Luke likes you." Calum exhaled. "He thinks you're friends."

Michael furrowed his brows. "We _are_ friends."

Calum shot him a closed-mouth smile. "Yeah. Thing is, due to his…- Luke's life isn't easy. Friends are rare. Being friends with him can be difficult. Certain things are just not possible. And we," Calum gestured between him and Ashton, "are quite protective of him."

Michael didn't like the direction this conversation was taking. Not at all. "I noticed."

"What I mean to say is-"

"Oh, no, I get what you say." Michael let out an indignant huff. "You're afraid I'm gonna - what? - leave as soon as his blindness causes a problem?"

The other boys shifted.

"That I'm just messing with him? Gonna pretend I like him and then ditch him like some sick arsehole?"

The look Calum and Ashton exchanged was confirmation enough. Michael scoffed. "Well, first of all, fuck you then. I'd never do such thing and if the fact that Luke can't see would bother me at all, don't you think I wouldn't have become friends with him in the first place? You should think better of me considering it was - you know - me who took care of him this past week. Second of all… just see the first point."

Shoving his books and papers into his backpack, Michael jumped up, ignoring the curious looks he got as he stormed out of the classroom.

*

The tip of the cigarette flared red. He took a deep drag, let the smoke clog up his lungs until it burned and burned the anger out of him. Michael didn't move when he felt the metal of the pingpong table dip. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Eventually Calum spoke up.

"I can't remember a time where Ashton hasn't giggled in my ear or Lukey annoyed me with his endless need for cuddles."

Michael smiled into thin air.

"And I believe you when you say you'd never purposefully hurt him. I do. But you weren't there in the hospital. You weren't there when he realised he'd have to leave the team. That he'd never get his license. That he had to count steps to move around in his own house." Michael could hear the agony in the other boy's voice. Felt a repercussion of the pain in his own chest. "Luke has been hurt a lot in the past. A lot of friends that didn't know what to say so they stopped talking to him at all. I'm not letting him go through that again."

He inhaled. He exhaled. Michael threw the half-smoked cigarette to the ground, perishing the last sparks with the heel of his vans. "I really like him."

"I know. It's hard not to, isn't it? You should have seen him before, dude, he was so popular, so much better..." Calum shook his head. "He is better than any of us, better than any of the people here.”

The raven-haired boy hopped off the tabletop, dusting off his jeans. When Michael met his coffee dark irides there was nothing but kindness in them.

“I'm gonna give you one chance because I like you. You're strong and you don't care about the peasants. Ashton thinks you're going to be good at Fifa. Most of all Lukey seems happy when he talks about you. And that’s what I care about. Friday means family night. We're gonna hang at Luke’s house. Come if you want. Now you know."

Without another word Calum turned around, making a beeline for the school building.

"Hey, Calum?" Michael called out.

The mocha-skinned boy whirled around. "Yeah?"

Michael smiled. "You’re not so bad yourself!"

*

Shutting the Benz down, Michael eyed the house at the other side of the street. It was big to say the least. The familiar black ford and two other cars parking in the driveway, neatly trimmed green lining the way to the front door. The house itself had two stories, solid sandstone with fancy wall-length windows. Wealthy, but not filthy rich. Michael was glad that at least money didn't seem to be an issue for Luke.

Plucking his phone from the dock station he opened the car door. The night air was cold and damp, making goosebumps erupt all over his skin. Hastily he scurried over the street and made a beeline for the front door.

It was Ashton who opened him.

“I’m glad you came.” The curly-haired boy whispered in his ear as he pulled away from their hug, beaming up at him.

"Me too." Michael answered simply, following the other boy through the foyer and down a hallway. The living room was all white walls, creme carpet and bulky furniture. In between the corner sofa and the couch table Luke was sprawled out on the floor, carding his bare feet through the fabric of the floor. Calum was standing next to the flatscreen mounted to the opposite wall, a pile of DVDs in hand. Ashton dove onto the couch. “Michael is here!”

Calum looked up. The dark-eyed boy nodded at him, mouthing a silent “Hi!”. There was a small content curve to his smile and Michael relaxed. He was about to mouth a greeting back when he was interrupted by an armful of scrawny limbs and golden hair.

“Hi.” Luke breathed into his ear.

“Hello to you too.” Michael laughed. “Nice aim.”

“Thanks, I’m glad I hit you first time. Running straight past you would have been a bit embarrassing.”

“Nah, I would’ve caught you in time.”

Instead of an answer Luke pulled him to the couch, skillfully avoiding any furniture in their way whatsoever. Calum popped the DVD he had chosen in the player. Afterwards he wedged himself between Ashton and Luke, placing his feet on the couch table. A bad habit, apparently.

Luke seemed to think the same.

"Feet off the table."

"They are not-"

The blind boy huffed. "Calum."

"Ugh, fine. Who's gonna call the pizza place? I'm starving."

"Already at it." Ashton chimed from the other end of the couch. "Whatchya'll want?"

What followed was the most intense discussion of pepperoni versus pineapple and ham Michael had ever witnessed.

Eventually Luke threw his hands in the air. “Fine if you don’t know to appreciate the wonder that is baked pineapple go for pepperoni then.”

“Yes!”

“I can share with you if you want. Let’s order two.” Michael was fucking around on his phone when he said that so he didn’t see the slap on the chest coming.

“Yes!” Luke imitated Calum who eyed them with an eyeroll. “Fine, Ashton order two.”

They started the movie as soon as Ashton had hung up the phone. Watching a movie with the other three boys was fascinating, Michael discovered, especially a slasher film like _All The Boys Love Mandy Lane_. Within dialogue pauses and location shots either Ashton or Calum would immediately chime up and explain to Luke in hushed voices what was happening and who was stabbing who.

At times Michael would ask himself if it wasn't boring for the blind boy to watch the movie like this but soon he realised that the movie wasn't what this was about for Luke. The blind boy thrived on just being with his friends, getting his legs rubbed by Ashton while snuggling into Michael's shoulder. He never once stopped smiling. Several times Michael caught himself watching the blind boy more than the actual movie. But he couldn’t be blamed for that really. In the flickering light of the TV screen Luke just looked ethereal. Not to mention that due to the fact Luke had snuggled up on his stomach Michael inhaled that damn scent of lime and laundry detergent with every breath, making his head all woozy.

*

“Well, fuck me, that must have been the worst horror movie I’ve ever watched.” Calum lamented the second the screen had faded to black, kicking an empty pizza carton out of the way as he stood up.

“I thought it was pretty good.” Ashton yawned, standing up as well. “I’m baked though. Bed?”

Calum nodded suppressing a yawn of his own.

“Ye think we should wake those two up?”

They both turned around to look at the two boys snuggled up on the sofa, their mouths hanging open, limbs too entangled to make out where one began and the other ended.

Calum rubbed his chin. “Mhm, no, let them sleep.” After a second he added. “I’m still worried.”

Ashton blinked. “I like him. Luke likes him. He has to like us since he came. What’s the problem?”

“I dunno… it’s nothing. I’m just… it’s the way Lukey looks at him.”

“Dude…”

“Oh shut up, you know what I mean. And I’ve only ever seen him look like this once before in our lives.”

“Like what?”

“Hopeful.” Calum said, carding his fingers through his hair. “He looks hopeful.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	4. You Only Sing When You're Winning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so inrecdibly sorry this is late. I had kind of a really rough week, including a move. Next update will be sooner, I promise. To make it up this chapter is a little bit longer than usual. :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Two weeks later Michael was standing in the middle of his kitchen, head wrapped in tinfoil. Libby was perched on the counter, her small legs dangling off the countertop, sticky fingers occasionally nicking a piece of the cucumber he was cutting.

"You look like an alien, Mikey!" The nine year-old lilted while he opened the fridge to retrieve the tomatoes he had bought. It was almost ironic that their mother ran a restaurant and yet Michael and his sister had been living off of take-out, canned ravioli and instant soup for those past weeks. Tonight however he would make them a salad.

"Mikey was abducted. I am here to take you to the spaceship, graaaah."

Libby rolled her eyes at him. "Please, I'm nine, I'm smart. You're dying your hair again. Mummy's gonna throw a fit when she sees the spots on the towels." The thought coaxed a giggle out of her.

Michael lifted his hands in surrender. "You got me there, princess."

"I'm sad, I liked the galaxy hair." She pouted but perked up in the next moment. "There's a boy in my school, he has galaxy spots as well. He said he liked my dress, you know, the one with the green dots? And..."

Michael tuned out for the next few minutes of Libby babbling on and on about her newest crush. His sister tended to fall in love quickly and out of it even faster. But Michael wasn't worrying about that just yet. There were still a couple of years left until he'd have to fend off his sister's admirers. A weak slap on the arm shook him out of his thoughts.

“Mikey! I am talking to you too!”

“Oh, sorry, princess. What was it?”

Libby huffed. “I asked what colour?” She motioned to his hair. He grinned.

*

"Michael." Mrs Hemmings opened the door with a resigned look on her face. Michael suppressed a sigh. Even after almost a month Luke's mother was still wary of him.

"Hey, Liz." He greeted, plastering the family-friendliest smile on his face he could muster. "Is Lukey upstairs?"

"He is. You know the way by now I assume?"

“I do, thank you.”

Without another word Liz turned around, disappearing into the kitchen. Michael made his way upstairs. Luke's room was the last door at the far end of the hallway. This way, he had explained Michael, he would just have to reach out to the left and wait till he hit the wall should he ever lose count.

Michael had planned to enter Luke's room by belting along to the Beyoncé track the blind boy was listening to. However the words got caught in his throat when he ripped the door open. Luke was standing in front of his closet, naked safe for a pair of navy briefs. Michael was not sure he was still breathing as his eyes swiped over the other boy's body, took in scrawny arms and narrow shoulders, muscles rippling under golden skin and the dips at the bottom of his spine, the slight curve of Luke's ass and legs that were better than those of most girls Michael knew. He was definitely not breathing when Luke bent down, the muscles of his thighs flexing, in order to shimmy into a pair of uncharacteristically skinny jeans. Unsure as what to do he watched Luke put clothes on. That was until he realised he was taking advantage of Luke’s inability to spot him. Quickly Michael closed the door again, knocking as loud as he could before stepping in.

This time Luke was sitting on his bed - fully clad, thankfully - opening his arms upon Michael’s entry, an excited smile on his lips.

“You’re such an addict, Hemmings, I swear to god.” Michael commented as he walked over to the bed, wrapping his arms around the younger boy’s neck. Luke just laughed and pulled him onto the duvet, excitement making his body quiver. “Thank you so much for doing this! I haven’t been to a game in ages. Cal and Ashton will be so excited to see us.”

“You’re welcome.”

Luke answered by squeezing a little harder.

“You plan on letting go any time soon?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, okay.” Letting out a small sigh, Michael shifted his weight so he was not completely lying on top of the other boy. They remained in this position for a couple of minutes before eventually Michael wriggled himself free. “Alright, we’ll have to go now or else we’re gonna miss kick-off.” Groaning Luke let himself be pulled off the bed, fake exasperation not covering up the buzz of excitement he was giving off.

“You ready?”

“Yeah, just…” The blind boy rummaged through his pocket for a moment. “... can you paint my cheeks?”

And Michael was so, so endeared. Grinning like an idiot he squeezed some of the coloured make-up onto his index fingers and smeared it onto Luke’s cheeks.

“There you go. Anything else?”

Luke reached out and groped for his hand, intertwining their fingers when he found it. “No, I’m good to go.”

*

The walk from the car park to the high cyclone fence surrounding the school stadium took an eternity. Masses of people were trying to wedge through the only gate, the pre-game music getting everybody hyped up.

Luke's brows knitted together after the dozenth time Michael had been cheered on. "Michael?"

"Yes, Lukey?"

"Why are all these people hollering at you?"

He laughed, squeezing the blind boy's fingers through the fabric of their gloves. It had gotten cold these past weeks, summer seemed to be officially over.

"Well, I may or may not have dyed my hair electric blue."

"Blue like..."

"Exactly."

“But you don’t even like this school? Or the people here? Or soccer in general? Why dye your hair in our team’s colour?”

“Well, I like you.” Michael reflexively caught Luke as the blind boy missed a step and nearly fell up the side stairs of the bleachers they were ascending. “Woah, careful, dude!”

“I’m fine.” Luke coughed, hiding his face in his shoulder. “Slippery metal.”

Michael shook his head in a fond manner and placed both of his hands on the blind boy’s hips, guiding him through the upper row he had chosen. As soon as they had sat down, he continued his explanation. “Anyways, yeah, if it means a lot to you, it means a lot to me too. Plus, don’t tell them, but Calum and Ashton are pretty good lads as well, so…” Michael pumped his free hand into air. “Gotta support the team!”

Luke looked like he was about to say something but smiled instead. The next moment the volume of the music doubled and the current track was broken off mid-song to be replaced by Jay-Z’s _Jungle_.

“Bit dramatic, isn’t it?” Michael bellowed into Luke’s ear as the people around them rose from their seats and started clapping. Luke just laughed, and pulled them to their feet as well. "I love it. Top battle tune!"

They cheered when their school's team walked on the pitch, Calum as captain leading the front, Ashton in his white goalie kit directly behind him.

The curly-haird boy lit up like a christmas tree when he spotted Luke and Michael in the crowd. Bouncing up and down, he tapped Calum on the shoulder and whispered into his ear. Calum's head whipped around and searched the bleachers. The mocca-skinned boy cracked up as soon as his eyes fixed on Michael's hair.

"Cal and Ash are watching, smile!"

Luke beamed and started waving in the direction of the pitch. The look on his friends' faces were priceless.

"This is the best moment of my life." Luke breathed into Michael's ear whilst the players on the pitch got ready for kick-off. After the shrill tone of the whistle everybody sat down again, the metal of the bench-row cold through the fabric of Michael's jeans.

"I'm happy you're happy, Lukey."

Instead of an answer Luke just smiled and dumped his head heavy onto Michael's shoulder. Promptly Michael began to explain what was going on on the pitch.

It took Michael a few minutes but soon enough he was able to spot Calum even from the distance. It wasn't that hard honestly. He mostly had to look out for the blue-clad player with the golden band around his arm and the ball at his feet.

"Damn, Cal's not even bad." Michael admitted.

Luke preened, chest swelling with pride. "Calum is brilliant. He already has offers from uni teams and stuff. All he has to do is graduate and they'll take him in, full scholarship and all."

"Wow."

"Yeah." Luke's face fell as he looked down. "Must be nice. To have it all figured out."

"You'll figure it out as well." Biting his bottom lip, Michael interlinked their fingers, resting his chin on the blind boy's shoulder. "And if not you can still always become the sidekick of my superhero alter ego."

That had Luke laughing. "I don't know how you do that!"

Michael cocked his head to the side. "What?"

"You'll always make everything... I don't know, better? With you I'm not as- as scared. When you're with me, I mean. It's just... nice."

Michael felt something in his chest melt and pour down his intestines. Something he definitely couldn't think about any further. And because he was a coward he took the easy way out.

"Aww, Hemmo. I knew deep down you're a gigantic sap." He cooed.

"Oh, shut up!" Luke slapped him lightly, hitting his chest. But the smile was still prominent on his face and that was what Michael needed. He didn't see it fall as he turned back to the pitch.

They won. The crowd went ecstatic as soon as the referee blew the whistle. The few supporters of the opposing team had left a good twenty minutes prior to the end, somewhere between Calum’s six and seventh goal. In the end there was no better word than annihilation.

As soon as it was safe Luke hopped onto Michael’s back and Michael carried them down the bleachers and onto the pitch. The moment Luke had jumped off his back he was replaced by Ashton. Short-handedly Michael carried him in a victory lap around the stadium. When they returned, Calum pulled him into a tight hug.

“Thanks, mate. Not only for taking Luke but also for coming in general. Means a lot.”

“Your play was worth it, dude!” Michael laughed back, only half-heartedly struggling when Calum pulled him into a headlock. “I can’t fucking believe you dyed your hair blue!” The raven-haired boy shouted, victory buzz bursting out of his body. Michael just laughed.

They decided to hit up Pizza Hut before the after-game party one of the midfielders was throwing. Unsurprisingly the place was packed when they arrived. Nonetheless Ashton managed to secure them a booth at the windows, simply by jumping onto the tabletop as soon as the family of four occupying the table before them had left. Luke volunteered to keep their table free whilst the other would get the food. Michael joined him within an heartbeat.

“It’s just not safe the table with the blind kid, you know. People could sit down and he has no chance to know.”

Calum just raised an eyebrow at him before joining Ashton in the queue with a shake of his head.

What felt like an eternity later the two boys returned with the pizzas. Ashton was busy explaining  in great detail how exactly he had held that last ball when they got interrupted by a shout.

“Michael!”

Four heads whipped around to watch the girl walk over. She was pretty, perfectly tanned skin, chocolate eyes and hair.

"Kayla?"

"Hi, Michael!" She grinned, flopping down next to Calum whose eyes grew wide at the contact. Mouth disappearing into a fine line, he stared at Michael.

"What-" Michael cleared his throat, turning to look at the girl. "How you doin?"

"I'm good, good. I saw you at the game and thought I'd come over. We haven't talked in ages."

“Uh...” Luke's hand came out of nowhere, curling around the back of his neck.

Michael blinked. "Yeah, I uh I was busy. Sorry."

Kayla waved him off. "Meh, no problem! I have to say, I love the new hair. Such a brave colour. I've always loved blue."

As if on cue Luke's fingers wandered to his hair, carding through the tousled strands. Michael barely managed to suppress the moan that threatened to escape his lips as Luke scratched his nails over his scalp. He had a thing for people playing with his hair, but that preference belonged to a different, _very_ different situation. Reluctantly he shook the blind boy's fingers out of his hair and focussed back on Kayla, whose smile had faltered infinitesimally at the interaction between the two boys. "Why thank you."

Kayla beamed again, resting her elbows on the tabletop between them, placing her chin on her left hand. With the other she started curling a strand of hair around her index finger. "You know, I was thinking." She smiled. "Next friday there is the premiere of this new movie and I thought maybe you and I-"

"Mikey." Luke interrupted suddenly. "I need to use the bathroom, take me?"

Startled Michael turned to look at the blind boy. Luke had his head turned towards him, lips pressed into the tiniest of smiles. “Please?” Luke added.

“Uh, sure. We’ll-? We’ll be right back.”

Shooting Kayla an apologetic smile, he slid out of the booth, taking Luke’s hand and guiding him through the people crowding their way. As soon as the bathroom door had fallen closed behind them Michael turned around.

“Wanna tell me what’s wrong?”

Luke looked up, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Don’t lie to me, Luke. You’re frowning harder than Calum did when he got maths back last week. What is it?”

The blind boy crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You didn’t tell me you were friends with Kayla Morrison.”

“Well, that’s partially due to the fact that I’ve only ever spoken to her once before.”

“She wants to go on a date with you.”

“That’s probably true.” Michael shrugged for no one.

“Will you do it?”

“What?”

“Go on a date with her!”

This time Michael laughed. “Probably not.”

“Don’t laugh at me, Michael!”

“Well, I have to since you’re behaving ridiculous.”

“‘M not ridiculous.”

“That’s not what I said. I just don’t get your problem.”

Luke flushed red. “I don’t have a problem!”

“Then why are we yelling at each other?” Michael bellowed back.

“Ugh, forget it. I don’t have to pee anymore. Take me back to our table, please.”

“Will you, please, just tell me what’s wrong so I change it?”

Luke chewed on his lip. Eventually his shoulders slumped and he turned his face towards him. “If she asks you again, will you go on a date with Kayla?”

“No.” Michael said firmly, taking the blind boy’s hands in his. “I have no interest in Kayla like _at all_.”

 _Because I’m gay. Because I love you._   Michael froze. Flabbergasted he looked at his reflection in the mirror, looked at Luke, looked at their joint hands. _Fuck._

His heart was racing. “We’re good then? Can we go back to our table?”

Michael was pretty sure if he didn’t get out of this bathroom he would have to vomit. Luke nodded slowly, then he wrapped his arms around Michael’s waist, snuggling into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s fine, kid.” Ignoring the blur to his vision he pressed a kiss to Luke’s temple. Then he lead the both of them out of the bathroom.

When they returned to their table, Kayla was gone.

“Here.” Calum handed him a slip of paper. “She had to go, but it was very important to her that you get her number.”

Michael shook his head. “Keep it. I’m pretty sure you can do more with that.”

Calum’s lips slowly distorted into a smile, his eyes gleaming with something Michael couldn’t decipher. The raven-haired boy nodded curtly. “Alright. Party has started an hour ago. Time to get it started.”

Ashton giggled. “Let’s go.”

The two boys lead the way, Michael guiding Luke after them.

*

With shaking fingers Michael lit the cigarette jammed between his lips. He was standing on the metal platform of the fire escape in front of his French window, cold night’s air tugging on his hair and sweater. His head was buzzing, alcohol from the party still heavy in his system. Nonetheless his thoughts were clear. Well, singular. It was just one thought that kept coursing through his brain. _Because I love you. Because I love you. Because I love you._

He loved Luke. He was in love with Luke. Michael Clifford was _in love_ with Lucas Hemmings, his best friend. His best friend who was straight according to the seventh year girlfriend Ashton had mentioned once. Quivering he took the first drag of his cigarette, but it didn’t calm him, didn’t rid him off the burn in his stomach.. He was so, _so_ fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	5. To My Knees It's A Bad Religion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title lifted from "Bad Religion" from Frank Ocean. This song is honestly the best description for this chapter. Also I'm sorry, hehe. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Earsplitting Drum’N’Bass was pounding from wall high speakers, coloured spots - and occasionally even stroboscope light - illuminating the crowd of bodies. The club was one of the better ones Michael had been to. Though dancing was not what he was here for. Ignoring the couple making out next to him, he placed his elbows on the railing of the gallery and looked down on the dance floor, scanning the crowd. It had been a long time since Michael had done this. Which didn’t mean he had lost any of his know-how. Expertly he weeded out all the oldies, drug-addicts who’d expect pay and selfish arseholes. What was left was a good of five possibilities.

The first two were out the moment they started making out with each other. As much fucked up shit as Michael had pulled, he wasn’t into that kind of stuff.

Number Three was ruled himself out by exing three shots in a mere of twenty seconds. No way would any of that alcohol touch Michael when it would make its definite comeback.

Left were Four and Five. Rightening the hem of his cut off shirt, he made his way down the spiral staircase.

Four was dancing in a group of people when Michael arrived, eyes closed, nice, really nice, arms wrapping around Michael’s middle without a second of hesitation. Michael started moving against him. For a moment he was sure it would be Four but then the other boy opened his eyes. They were mesmerising, a clear cerulean that pierced through everything it focussed on. They were beautiful. They were the exact opposite of what Michael was looking for. Cursing he backed away, ignoring the protesting call Four uttered.

He found Five at the bar. The man was maybe a few years older than him, buzzed black hair and dark eyes, tan too deep to not be native. It didn’t cost Michael more than a smile and a few mouthed words and he was following Michael to the bathroom.

They weren’t the only ones in there. Most of the stalls were occupied, smothered moans coming from most of them. Some stereotypes were ridiculous. Some were offensive. And some were true.

“What’s-”

“Don’t.” Shaking his head, Michael closed the stall door behind them. He didn’t want to know Five’s name. Because Five wasn’t more than that. Just a number. Just a number, a code to get it out of his system.

The other man shrugged. “Fine with me.”

The next moment Michael was pressed against the wall, Five’s tongue latching onto his neck, calloused hands fumbling for his fly. They weren’t delicate, weren’t nimble, wouldn’t fit perfectly in the spaces between Michael’s fingers. Michael didn’t care. Just a number, just a code.

Faking a moan, Michael buried his hands in Five’s hair and gently but deliberately pushed the man’s head downwards. Five went along with it, pushing Michael’s shirt up with one hand, kissing along Michael's skin.

"No marks. Sch- work." Right, he was an adult in here, not a seventeen year-old still in high school. Eventhough he was sure Five wouldn't have cared either way. This was about getting off.  His head hit the stall wall with a low thud, Five's fingers slipping beneath his waistband.

"Congrats, dude."

Michael snorted out a laugh. That was until his breath and train of thought were cut off by Five's lips on his. On Michael's  _lips_. The wrong end of his body. What the-

He pushed the other man off of him. Five was not amused.

"What the fuck, dude?!"

"I-" Michael had no idea what he wanted to say. There was a demolishing, painful heat cursing through his body, his lungs incredibly tight, his head spinning.

"I'm..." Michael practically ran out of the bathroom. He was halfway through the dance floor crowd before he thought to pull his zipper up. It wasn't until he was slumping onto the driver's seat of his car before he could breathe again.

"Fuck!" He yelled, banging his lower arms onto the steering wheel. It didn't help. It didn't stop the tears pooling in his eyes. With shaking hands he started the car.

Michael wouldn't get it out of his system. He wouldn't fuck, scream, bang the love for Luke out of his body. There went his sanity, then.

*

"Okay, no, this is bullshit. I did this equation already why doesn't it fit?"

Michael sighed. "Yo, Calum make some space for the pasta."

"You have to replace the second x with b."

"Space, for food. Now!" Wedging himself between Calum and Luke, Michael placed the steaming pot in the middle of the dinner table. Ashton sighed from where he was sprawled over his chair. "Whose idea was combining study day and family night anyways?"

"Frick you, I need at least a C to pass and if I don't I can throw my scholarship in the trash." Calum looked near crying. Luke rubbed soothing circles into his back.

"Alright, enough of the school talk. Pasta time!" Shooting the seeing part of his friends a challenging glare, Michael placed the last pot on the table and slumped down next to Ashton. Smiling in his direction, Luke closed Calum's mathbook. Michael fixed his eyes on his plate, ignoring the questioning eyebrow Calum raised.

It had been a week since his night downtown and Michael had never been more grateful Luke couldn't see him. This way the blind boy simply missed the way Michael's smile would falter within seconds. Luke missed how he couldn't meet Luke's eyes, seeing or not. Calum had noticed but hadn’t said something yet. Michael could live with that. He was too busy containing his self-loathing to a minimum.

They had barely eaten the first fork of Carbonara when there was a loud squeal from the hallway. Cursing Michael jumped up, cutlery thrumming as it fell to the ground.

"Libby!"

Muffled crying from the bathroom.

"Libby!"

Heart pounding, Michael ripped the bathroom door open. His sister was sitting on the tiles, tears pooling in huge grey eyes, tiny hands covering her mouth. In a small heap next to her feet were the remnants of what Michael identified as their mother's face creme. Glass shards were dangerously close to the nine-year old's naked feet.

"I just wanted to look pretty, like mummy does." The nine-year old babbled the moment Michael had stormed in. "But the tube was heavy and it slipped. I swear I didn't mean to do it, you have to tell her that Mikey, p-promise!"

"Libbs." With a sigh Michael crouched down and picked his sister up, her legs wrapping around his middle like vines. "Mum won't be mad. I'm gonna clean it up and she won't even notice, yeah?"

Bottom lip quivering, his sister nodded. "O-okay."

"Good. Now stop crying, huh, baby? I'm gonna bundle you up in bed with Felix and that elephant..."

"Mr Heathsmith."

"Right, that one too. And then you can watch _Tangled_ and everything's gonna be alright. Deal?"

Libby fixed him with a watery stare. Eventually she nodded, burying her face in the fabric of his sweater. The pins holding her braid together were piercing against his skin as he carried her to her room.

Twenty minutes later Michael reemerged. Ashton was leaning against the opposite wall, fixing him with an apprehensive look. It was almost weird to see the other boy this serious. "You're a good brother, Michael."

Michael blinked. "Thank you."

A few moments passed and then the old Ashton was back, all twinkling eyes and giggles. "Let's get back, you should get some of that Spaghetti before Calum has eaten everything up."

"Calum!" Michael yelled promptly, taking off into the direction of the living area. "Hands off my food, you glutton!"

*

"Ugh, cut me open."

"That's your fault for cleaning the pot with your tongue."

Calum stretched out his leg from where he was sprawled out on the floor and kicked Michael in the side. Luke who was lying on top of him, his cheek resting on the other boy's chest, huffed in protest.

"You still wanna watch that splatter film?" Ashton chimed up from the loveseat, receiving a collective groan in response.

"Let's just..." Calum yawned. "... sleep."

"Word." Luke said without prying his eyes open.

"Seconded."

Ashton giggled and changed channels to some trash TV.

*

It was late at night when Michael woke to a mouth full of hair and the flushing noise of the toilet. Sometime during the night Luke had rolled off him and snuggled into his side. Ignoring the huff of protest the blind boy uttered in his sleep, Michael rolled off the couch, careful not to land on Calum. He didn't quite manage to take his eyes off the blonde boy immediately.

Being in love with Luke was actually not that different from being just friends with him. Michael wasn't sure if that was because he had been in love with Luke the moment he had laid eyes on him but unaware or if it had been a process. Not that it mattered. All he knew was that he was aware now. Aware of the fact that sometimes his hand just wouldn't let go of Luke's. Or that he caught himself leaning forward when they stood in front of each other. The slight pengs of jealousy whenever the blind boy would cuddle with Calum or Ashton, even though Michael was there as well. And honestly he was a way better cuddler anyways, okay, Calum cuddled a typical straight boy and Ashton was way too eager, not soft enough. Worst were the waves of missing at night. Worst was the self-loathing because Michael had dared to even try to deny how irrevocably in love with Luke he was that night at the club.

"Hey, mate. Sorry, did I wake you?"

Michael jumped and whirled around to face a bleary-eyed Ashton.

"No, no problem! Lukey woke me up. A couple minutes longer and I would've suffocated."

Ashton chuckled and tapped him on the shoulder before flopping down on the couch.

Within minutes the curly-haired boy had fallen back asleep.

Michael tip-toed into the kitchen area and drank a few gulps from the faucet. Then he retreated into his room. He ended up just burying his head underneath his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	6. Heart Against My Chest Lips Pressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *coughs* the song the chapter title is lifted from is no fore-shadowing at all. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Shut up, it’s not that weird!”

“Oh no, Hemmings, it is weird.”

“Is not. I know at least five people who drink their yoghurt."

"Yeah, but they don't do it with a _straw_."

Frowning Luke leaned away from him, sucking some of the pink dairy into his mouth. Michael laughed but shushed himself quickly. They were in the library, books spread out between them. Michael had originally planned on doing his maths homework, however his plans had died a quick death when Luke joined him with his lunch bag and too weird dietary habits.

"Here, try." Luke pushed the cup against his chin, straw nearly poking Michael in the nose. "And then admit that it tastes better this way."

Michael huffed but took the straw between his lips. He sucked some of the yoghurt into his mouth, humming while he swallowed. It tasted exactly the same. "Fine, you win this one. It's better through a straw."

"Yes!" Luke cheered, clutching the cup between both of his hands. "I'm choosing what we do tonight!"

"Who said I've got time tonight?"

Luke's face fell.

"Kidding, I'm kidding! You know I always have time for you. You're the boss but pizza is not discussable."

"Please." Luke flipped his non-existent hair back.

Michael shook his head, returning to his homework. "You're something else, Hemmings."

"You love me, Clifford."

"I do."

He was too busy groaning about the equation in front of him to notice the splatter of yoghurt that landed on the paper of Luke's novel.

Without looking up he asked. “So I was thinking a movie tonight? We could go to the cinema?”

"Yeah, I'd love that." Luke's answer came out slightly muffled. "My parents have tickets for the opera so we can go to the later showing."

Michael grinned at his undoubtly wrong solution. Of course Luke's parents were that kind of people.

The next time he glanced up the blind boy was perched over his book. There was a slight crease of concentration between his eyebrows as his fingers traced the braille letters. Michael felt a pull in his chest. It wasn't fair, how much he craved the younger boy's touch. He had to physically hold his hand back as to prohibit it from reaching for Luke. Pinching his thigh instead Michael focussed back on his notebook.

*

“Michael.” Liz sighed, nudging the door open with her heel-clad foot as she was busy putting in a complex pearl earring.

“Good evening, Mrs Hemmings.”

Luke’s mother sized him up with a stern look before she gave in. “Good to see you.”

“You as well.”

“Stop sucking up.”

Michael produced his brightest smile. “Will do, Liz.”

Luke’s mother sighed, her eyes softening a notch. She had already turned around when she added. “I like the turquoise.”

*

It had gotten cold for autumn, small clouds of breath forming in front of their lips as they ascended the steps to the entrance of the cinema. Inside it was just gradually warmer.

Though Michael couldn't complain when Luke wrapped himself around his middle. The blind boy slipped his hands underneath the fabric of Michael's sweater, rubbing his frozen fingers over Michael's warm belly.

"Frick, Lukey!"

"'M cold." The blind boy whined, snuggling closer. "It's winter outside."

Luke looked up at him with a pout and really what was there left for Michael to do besides giving in.

"Go ahead then."

"Success." Luke lilted and bumped his forehead against Michael's chest bone. Michael huffed and rested his chin on top of the blind boy’s head.

A few spots ahead in the queue he spotted a few kids from their school. Some of them were watching him and Luke but Michael wasn't too worried. Since his friendship with Calum had came to be, Michael had noticed a significant decrease in people who thought they could fuck with him. Unbothered he focussed back on Luke.

They got their tickets and Michael guided the blind boy to their screening room, up the stairs until he had found their row. With a content sigh he pulled Luke into their seats. Because they were sat in the upper three rows, their seat had no arm rest. Michael was well aware of the fact what those seats were usually called but didn't think too much about it. Instead he focussed on the order system.

"Popcorn or Nachos?"

Luke yawned and stretched in response, his shirt rippling up to reveal a patch of milky skin, interrupted by a fine trail of golden hairs and- Michael would not even go there.

"I don't mind, really. Get what you want."

Michael was silent for a few seconds. Luke snorted. "You want both don't you?"

He grinned and the blind boy sighed. "Go ahead then. Order both. But make sure to add a large Coke somewhere in there. Cinema air makes me thirsty."

With nimble fingers Michael tapped in their order, leaning back as the screen lit up with a green _Your order has been placed_.

As always the trailers were endless. Michael entertained them both by adding his own two cents to every one of them.

"New big Action blockbuster with Tom Cruise, haven't they ritually sacrificed him yet?" and "Uh, the obligatory Katherine Heigl rom-com of the year, didn't realise it's almost winter yet. She should've stayed on Grey's Anatomy, even though I hate how she left, poor Alex..." Michael cleared his throat. "Anyways... oh yes yet another Vampire vs Supernatural teenybopper fest, I think they are showing that one in the theatre next door so if you hear screams, don't be worried like... at all."

Luke giggled into his shoulder. He had given up on any justifiable bodily separation after the first trailer and was now sprawled out over both of their seats. Michael would've said something if it wasn't for the fact that he was a selfish idiot and valued Luke's touch more than anything, including breathing space.

After another round of commercials the movie finally begun. Michael had chosen a simple comedy with Seth Rogen. This way Luke was at least able to laugh at the jokes.

Their food arrived and it was fun, really, shoving the food into his and occasionally Luke's mouth if he asked for it, laughing at the screen and and having the blind boy next to him, just _there_.

They were not alone in the theatre but the movie was good enough that it kept the other viewers occupied. At some point Luke stopped talking though and it wasn't five minutes later that Michael turned to find him passed out against his shoulder. His mouth was slightly ajar, nose occasionally scrunching up and little puffs of breath hitting the side of Michael's arm. It was definitely not justifiable by any means how endeared Michael was. Carefully he froze in his position, not moving again until the movie was over.

"Hey, Rosebud, wake up." Gently Michael shook Luke's shoulder. The blind boy's eyelids fluttered open, swaying aimlessly around for a moment before they inevitably stilled, useless.

"What-what?"

"We're still at the cinema. You fell asleep on me."

"Oh." Luke broke into a dopey smile. "Sorry."

"Nah, it's alright. It's Thursday so... go get that sleep!"

Luke yawned, reaching a hand out. Reflexively Michael took it and guided the blind boy out of the theatre.

It was dark outside as they walked to the car, thin layer of dew covering the streets.

Luke dozed off again on the drive home and leaned heavily on Michael's shoulder as the older boy half-carried him inside. The way upstairs took half an eternity but eventually Michael managed to drop the blind boy onto his bed. He was about to leave when thin fingers wrapped around his wrist.

"Stay, yeah?" Luke mumbled, eyes to heavy to be opened. "Just a minute or so."

Michael took a glance at his watch. It was almost midnight.

"Of course." He answered and lay down next Luke, slipping an arm underneath the younger boy's neck. Humming Luke rolled himself half on top of him, his ear against Michael's heart. Michael prayed the blind boy didn't hear it race.

*

It was barely two hours later that Michael was awoken by a cacophony of low thrumming sounds. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up, eyeing Luke’s dark room. It was bigger than his, about twice the size of Michael’s room. The furniture looked straight out of the catalogue. A few pictures and books were the only indication the room was actually lived in. And the audio books. CD rack over CD rack was mounted to the wall next to the bed, framing the high-end stereo that was probably worth more than Michael’s car.

“It helps me sleep. Reading demands a lot of concentration and is just exhausting.” Luke had explained when asked.

“It’s cool. _The Famous Five_?”

The younger boy had lit up like a candle. “You know ‘em? I love them! George is so cool. I mean like she’s an unapologetic tomboy and never cares if anybody makes fun of her for being how she wants to be or when she corrects her mother if she calls her ‘Georgina’. I just, I don’t know… I like people who are proud of who they are. Who never apologise for being different.”

It had taken Michael a solid two minutes to finally press out his answer. “You want me to pop one episode in?”

Luke had been right. It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep to the calming voice of the reader.

Now the blind boy was gone, the duvet still warm. Michael rolled off the bed and popped his spine with a groan. Then he ambled out the door, following the sound of music. He found Luke in the living room, sitting at the piano. Bare feet occasionally tapping down on the pedal, his fingers flew over the keys.

“You never told me you could play.”

Luke flinched. The music broke off.

“No.” Michael hurried the last few steps between them. “Don’t stop.”

He sat down next to the blind boy. There wasn’t much space left on the piano stool, but he made it work. They were pressed side to side, thighs connecting them. Luke kept his face turned towards the keys, expression unreadable.

“Play for me?”

A few seconds passed. “Please?”

Michael nudged the other boy in the side. A small smile appeared on Luke’s lips at the contact.

“If it’s shit don’t tell me.” Luke mumbled before raising his hands.

“It won’t be shit.”

Luke’s cheeks reddened. “You don’t know that.”

“Oh, I do. I’m almighty. I know everything. Now play. Play for me.”

So Luke played. [|x|](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hMwpT4cvkE4)

Michael knew, right then and there, that he would remember this night. That the memory of Luke sitting next to him, with his bleary eyes and sleep-tousled hair and skin glowing like pearl in the weak moonlight falling through the windows, would join the row of moments Michael treasured deep in his heart. That he would never feel more whole than he did while Luke’s fingers danced on the keys. That he’d never had and never would love another person more than he loved Luke.

The tears that pooled in his eyes fell silent. From time to time Luke would chime in with the melody. It was never more than a hushed “Hide out where you can find me, so you can miss me too.” or  “No one else but you at the end. Who completes me like this. Who moves me like this.” but Michael wanted to tattoo every word on his body. Eventually, Luke’s fingers stilled.

“What do you think?” The blind boy turned his head towards him, nibbling on his bottom lip.

Slowly Michael leaned forward and pressed his lips to Luke’s.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	7. If Words Were My Language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hums*

Luke's lips were warm and firm against his, slightly parted in surprise. Michael didn't know for how long they just stayed this way, kissing. Kissing. He was kissing Luke. Oh god. His chest grew tight. He suffocated. There was no air reaching his lungs. Like a pinched muscles he flinched back, crashed backwards off the piano stool. He scrambled to his feet within seconds. Luke hadn't moved. The blind boy was still sitting there, hands in his lap, lips ajar and eyes wide, so incredibly wide.

No oxygen. He couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry.” No air. He needed air. “Sorry, Lukey. I’m- so sorry."

The blind boy heaved in a breath, head flying to locate Michael. And Michael ran.

*

"Do you want Mr Heathsmith? I can get him for you, if you want?"

"No, Libby."

"Please, Mikey, tell me what I can do."

"Nothing, Libbs. Just..." His lungs still weren’t working properly. "I'll be fine tomorrow, yeah? Just not now. Go- go play. That'll make me better. If you play real good, I'll order us some Chinese tonight, yeah?"

"Okay." Came the hesitant answer. Nine-year old lips pressed against the fabric pulled over his head. Then his sister left the room. Whimpering he pulled the blanket tighter around him

It was a wonder, really, that he hadn’t crashed his car on the way home. The rest of the night and morning he had spent in a doze somewhere between sleep and consciousness. Now it was afternoon. He hadn’t left his bed. Michael knew he was procrastinating the inevitable. But he wasn't ready to see Luke again yet. He wasn't able to cope with the end of their friendship just yet. And it was so hard to breathe with the ceruleans-eyed lion standing on his chest, paws cracking his rib cage open, teeth clawing out every muscle string of his heart one by one. When he finally drifted off again, Michael felt as if he wasn't breathing at all.

*

It was the doorbell that awoke him a second time. Michael groaned, burying his head underneath his pillow. Should Libby get the door for once.

The next second his door flew open, hitting the wall with a peng. Michael had barely time to flinch before Calum and Ashton were strutting into his room.

"What the-"

"You!" Calum raised a finger and stomped towards him but Ashton held him back.

"Calm, Calum, please." At this point Michael was at least ninety-nine per cent sure Ashton was some magical creature made out of sunshine and inner peace, judging by the way Calum seemed to deflate under his touch. While the dark-haired boy wheezed to contain himself, Ashton turned towards Michael. His eyes were not in the least unkind. Stressed more so.

"You skipped school today."

"I did."

"Why?"

Michael looked away, fiddling with a rubbed open spot on his duvet. It turned out the be the wrong move when Calum exploded. "Okay, no, fuck this. More importantly, fuck you! Today Luke cried during lunch break. He literally broke down in the middle of the cafeteria and he won't tell us what happened. You were the last person he spoke too. What's wrong? Who hurt him? I need names."

It took Michael a second to process. Luke hadn't told his friends about the kiss. Luke had cried. Bad enough that Calum was convinced some bullies had gotten their unworthy fingers on him again.

He felt the distinct need to retch.

"No- no names." He shook his head. His hands were shaking so he hid them in the bellybag of his hoodie. "It's... I-"his throat closed up. He couldn't tell them. He couldn't even talk. The next moment he had an armful of curly-haired aussie boy wrapped around his neck.

"You okay? Did something happen to you too?”

Ashton was definitely too good for this world. Michael would’ve cried but his eyes had run dry hours ago. Instead his throat produced the pathetic excuse of a hiccup.

"It's my fault with Luke... I... we're not friends anymore."

Stunned silence followed his confession.

Then. "Oh my god, shut the fuck up!" Calum looked near strangling him. "Do you even listen to yourself? You sound so pathetic! As much as I hate to say that you're one of the bravest people I know, Clifford, so get your fucking act together. I told you that we're ride or die. Your friendship is not _over_ because of one argument. For fuck's sake just talk to him. And you better try your best to fix whatever shit you pulled, ‘cause you might haven’t realised but I am not particulary fond of people who make Lukey cry." Calum stomped to the door. Ashton hurried after him, not before shooting Michael an empathetic glance.

"Fix it. Whatever it is you've done. Just… fix it. Lord knows I would but- fix it." Calum's stare grew intense then he and Ashton were gone, leaving the door and Michaels mouth wide open.

*

Michael didn't call Luke that night. He didn't even leave his bed until Saturday noon. Calum was right, he was behaving pathetic. He also didn't care that he did so. Still Michael knew there was a limit to everything and Saturday noon was the limit to his mourning period.

He could see the relief on Libby’s face when he reemerged for lunch. Afterwards he changed into the warmest sweater and skinny jeans with the least holes he owned.

“Where are you going, Mikey?” Libby chimed from the sofa when he made a beeline for the door.

“I’m gonna say goodbye to someone. I’ll be back for dinner. Don’t cook something on your own!”

“Who are you saying goodbye to? It sounds sad.”

The lion roared at him. Michael shut the door.

*

The curb in front of the stadium was empty, spare for a rusty old Jeep. Rubbing his hands together to keep them warm Michael walked along the high cyclone fence. He could see the two figures on the pitch through the holes, one white, one blue, the ball flying back and forth between them at a pace so fast that the ball itself blurred. Not that Michael was here to watch Calum and Ashton play soccer.

Like magnets against steel his eyes latched onto the third figure, a dark spot of jeans and too light clothing for this weather on the bleachers. Of course he would wear something that didn’t match the weather.

_“I’m a summer kid, I refuse the get cold.”_

_“You see the problem there yourself, yeah?”_

_“Everything is possible if you just believe in it, Michael.”_

He blinked the memory away. It hurt him. It made him enter the stadium. Calum and Ashton didn’t see him as he sneaked around the back of the side stands. Michael still wasn’t completely sure Calum wouldn’t take the opportunity and pummel him if he saw him here.  The ascend of the main bleachers that Luke had chosen took to short. Suddenly he was standing next to the blind boy, cold air burning out his lungs, numbing his finger tips.

Michael sat down. “I’m not good with words.”

Luke didn’t move, didn’t even blink. But Michael could see the tears welling up in his eyes. This was the end, then. Might as well go out with a bang. He breathed in.

“If words were my language I would have told you a long time ago that you’re the ‘you’ in every song I listen to. I would have told you that my skin prickles when you touch it  and that it’s your face I see when I fall asleep at night. I breathe through your skin. I thrive in your presence. But I’m not a poet. I’m not an author and words aren’t my language. It never seemed good enough, the way I could think of how to tell you. You deserved better than that kiss. You deserve the world and I’m not anywhere near good enough. But I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry. I am in love with you, Luke, and I am not sorry.” Michael leaned forward - purposely taking advantage of Luke’s blindness for the first and last time - and pressed a chaste kiss to the younger boy’s cheek.

Michael had expected a lot. He had expected Luke to laugh at him, cry or even just ignore him. What he hadn’t reckoned with however was the punch in the jaw.

“Ow, fuck, Luke!”

“You idiot!” The blind boy hissed. “You fucking gigantic oaf!”

Another punch to the chest, Luke’s fists pounding against Michael’s chest. Michael grabbed Luke’s wrist, holding them still. “Calm down, Lukey, you’re gonna hurt yourself, you-”

“Shut the fuck up!”  

And then there were lips on his, Luke’s lips on his, warm and chapped from the cold, shutting him up, shutting Michael up. He was sure his brain exploded right then and there.

“Don’t you dare…” Luke wheezed out as they broke for air. “... run away from me again...” Another kiss. It was ridiculous, really, how well their mouths slotted together.“...you fucktard!”

A low moan escaped Michael’s lips. He wasn’t able to let go. His dream, his only dream, had faded into reality. He had to hold onto that as long as he could.

“I love you. I love you.”

“Good to hear.” Luke smirked, he smirked. Michael didn’t even knew people did that in real life. Breathless he looked down at their joint hands. Somewhere along the kisses Luke’s fingers had intertwined with his.

“But what does it mean?”

Luke shrugged. “It means that you’re more blind than me even though your eyes work fine.”

“So we’re…”

“I’m in love with you. Have been since you survived Calum’s death threat initiation and came to family night.”

“You knew about that?”

Luke laughed. “Of course I do. You’re not the first one to try get me.” Michael couldn’t help the peng of jealousy he felt in his chest. “Just the first one that didn’t get scared off.”

“So uh these other people… do they have names?”

“They’re girls.”

“About that…” Michael felt his heart shrink.

Luke smiled. “Bisexual." He scrunched up his nose. "Well, I guess. You're kind of like the first, uh...”

“Oh." Michael coughed. His stomach fluttered.

Luke laughed, latching himself onto Michael's side. The "Everything." got swallowed by the fabric of Michael's jumper. Warm thunderstorms erupted all over Michael's body and he knew that that was what he was here for. Just him and Luke, side by side, taking on the world.

"I really do love you though. It's not like a phase or something." Luke said against his chest. "That kiss yesterday felt right."

"What about them today?"

"Yeah, they were..." Luke pondered for a moment. The blind boy tilted his head up and pursed his lips. "More."

Michael thought he'd have to burst. He wanted to scream and laugh and cry all at the same time. Happiness, he recognised.

He was smiling too wide to kiss Luke properly. At least he wasn't the only one. The kisses sent jolts of electricity straight to Michael’s brain, making fireworks erupt all over his spine and back of the head. _Fireworks_. Michael was gone beyond return.

There was another person though who didn't quite enjoyed it as much as them.

Michael was hit at the arm by something hard and unaccomodating. The ball bounced down a few rows before it stilled.

"No PDA on my pitch!" Calum shouted but he was beaming nearly as bright as Ashton.

Michael just grinned and flipped him the finger. Then he pulled Luke back against him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	8. Cold Days Cold Plays Out Like The Band's Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title lifted from 'Drunk' by Ed Sheeran.
> 
> Enjoy!

Slowly Michael leaned down and wrapped his hand around the side of Luke's neck. Then he placed his lips on the pulse point above his index finger and sucked. Luke moaned and tipped his head to the side, granting Michael better access.

It was Monday afternoon and they were lying on Luke's bed. Episode twenty-nine of the Famous Five was droning on in the background but they had stopped listening a good ten minutes ago when Luke had perked up from his doze on top of Michael and began nibbling on the older boy's earlobe.

It had been two days and Michael still couldn't quite believe that this was actually happening. That he was allowed to kiss Luke whenever he felt like it, hold him close without a reason and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Michael loved every single second of it, loved Luke every second.

The blind boy shifted underneath him, his hip bone grazing Michael's crotch. Michael hissed and Luke stilled, his hands flying to wrap around Michael's arms.

"You alright? Did- did I do something wrong?"

A low laugh escaped Michael's throat at the concerned look on the blind boy's face.

"Not in the slightest." He dipped down and licked over the mark he had created. They hadn't talked about sex yet and Michael didn't plan on changing that right now. Luke was over a year younger than him. He was new to being gay as well and their relationship was not a week old. There was time. So much time. The rest of their lives if Michael looked at Luke long enough. "You're perfect. Carry on."

Luke still seemed unsure so Michael kissed the insecurity right off his face. After a few moments the blind boy relaxed, obediently parting his lips. Michael was pretty sure there had never been a more brilliant feeling than him running his tongue over Luke’s bottom lip. He flipped them over so Luke was straddling his waist.

"Rude." Luke breathed where he was toppled over against his neck.

"You love it."

"I love you."

Michael's was pretty sure he would wake up with sore face muscles the next morning. Nonetheless his smile only grew when their mouths slotted back together and Luke's fingers came up to tug at his hair.

Luke's hands had been a frequent pressure when they had been friends. Now they seemed to never leave his body, always reaching out, always roaming. Michael had the slight suspicion that Luke tried to compensate his lost fifth sense. He didn't mention it. Luke's disability was a touchy subject and Michael knew one day Luke would tell him the story of his blindness. Until then he would patiently wait. Apart from the fact that he couldn't exactly complain about Luke touching him ever.

Michael wrapped his arms around Luke’s torso, pulling him flush against him.

"Love you too.” He told Luke’s temple, the beloved scent of lime and laundry detergent filling his senses. It was then that they were interrupted by the alarm of Michael's phone.

"Ugh." With a grunt Michael retrieved his phone from the night stand. Luke didn't let go of him, just kept pressing his lips to Michael's.

“Luke.”

“No.” The blind boy murmured right into his mouth.

"Luke…” No air. “I mean it.”

The other boy hummed. With a sigh Michael turned his face away and unlocked his phone, effectively shutting the alarm off. Luke just followed him, hitting the edge of his mouth after a failed attempt that had landed on his cheek.

"Don’t leave.” The blind boy whined. “Just ten more minutes.”

“Can’t. Need to pick up Libbs from her day trip to the zoo.”

“They are always late. Please, I just got you. I don’t want to let you go yet.”

Michael felt himself caving. Hastily he shook his head. “I really can’t. I’m sorry, babe.”

Pouting, Luke rolled off of him. “Fine.” He sniffed. “Leave me then.”

Michael couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his throat.

“Don’t laugh at me, Clifford.” Luke lashed out, hitting his right rib area.

“You’re ridiculous.” Michael rolled his eyes and pressed a last quick kiss onto the other boy’s lips. “How about I pick you up half an hour earlier tomorrow and we can make out on the back seat before school?”

Luke seemed to ponder for a moment. Eventually he nodded, infinitesimally. “Okay. Okay, I can live with that.”

“Alright.” Michael rolled off the bed, landing smoothly on Luke’s cream carpet. “See you tomorrow.”

“Drive safe, yeah?” Luke’s head was turned towards his lap where he was sitting cross-legged now.

“Always.” Michael smiled, pressing down the handle of the bedroom door. “I love you.”   
“Love you too.”

Michael’s facial muscles would definitely be sore.

*

The bus was already there when Michael parked on the curb in front of the elementary school. Through the wrought iron fence surrounding the school he could see a countless children hugging their parents. Near the bus entrance stood a small brown-haired girl with grey eyes, clutching her yellow backpack. Next to her was standing a scrawny boy with sand-coloured hair and hazel eyes. His clothing was a lot more rugged in comparison to Libby’s neat red polka-dot dress, his hair an uncombed mess.

“Libbs!” Michael called. His sister’s head whipped up, a relieved smile lighting up her face.

“Mikey!”

Laughing the nine year-old ran towards him, jumping into his open arms. Michael was kind of glad Libby wasn’t too cool to hug her older brother in public yet. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see the other parents eyeing them, some fond, some curious, some scandalised at his hair colour. He didn’t care.

“How was it at the zoo? Did you see any animals?” He asked while carrying her towards the gates.

“Good. I saw some seals, they did this show and…” Her eyes grew wide. “Oh no, I forgot to say goodbye. Let me down, Mikey!” The next moment Libby had slipped from his arms and was running back to the boy from the beginning. There seemed to be no appendant adults around him. At least Michael wasn’t the only one late. Libby hugged the boy and he flinched, but soon patted her on the back. He poked out his tongue when Michael’s sister let him go. Libby waved as she walked backwards back to Michael.

“Who was he?” Michael asked as soon as he had buckled her into the passenger seat.

“His name is Harry, I told you about him! He bought me Betty.” Beaming Libby waved her brand-new plush zebra at him.

Michael blinked. “Well, that was very nice of him.”

“I know.” Libby let out a dreamy sigh. “He’s great. Do you think he can come over for dinner some time?”

Michael shifted gears, focussing on the street. “Sure.”

The rest of the drive he spent listening to Libby’s adventures at the zoo.

*

They had been walking towards the cafeteria when Calum suddenly grabbed his arm. Michael had known it was coming, nonetheless he felt his stomach churn as Calum pushed him into the next empty classroom.

With a sigh he sat down on the tabletop of the teacher’s desk, Calum following him, lips pressed into a tight line.

“I assume this is not about the maths homework we just got?” Michael tried.

Calum didn’t laugh at his joke. Instead the raven-haired boy planted himself in front of him, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Michael.”

“Calum.”

“I think you remember what I told you the last time we talked?”

“Vividly.”

“Great. Now know that you can multiply every assumption you ever made about me beating the shit out of your sorry ass should you hurt Lukey by ten. Then add three. And multiply again by five.”

“I’m honestly not that good at math.”

“Shut up. You know what I’m saying.” Calum shifted his weight. “If you break his heart, I’m gonna break you. No matter how good of friends we are.”

Michael couldn’t help but admire the uncompromising earnestness in Calum’s voice. He was more glad than anything that Luke had a friend like Calum. Two if he counted Ashton as well. Which he did.

“He’ll be the one to end it.” Michael realised the moment he had said it, that the words were true. Calum seemed to know too, at least a little bit.

“Good. Take good care of him. Buy him roses and shit. Take him out some time. Be... proper. Lukey deserves it.”

“Oh, I will.”

Calum nodded, a calm satisfaction smothering the glints in his eyes. “He really does like you, you know that, yeah? He talked a lot more about you than he was probably aware.” Calum’s face distorted into a horrified grimace. “Don’t even want to imagine what it’s gonna be like now.”

Michael laughed, the tension between them fading within a heartbeat. “I’m sorry, mate. But I like him too. Love him, actually. Properly.”

“Then I’m glad. It shall be allowed.” Calum punched him on the shoulder, then bumped his own against Michael’s before leading the way out of the room.

“Hey, Calum?”

“Yes?”

“Does it, uhm… like do you have a problem with me and Luke, because we’re both, I mean…”

Calum smiled at the group of girls walking in front of them. “If your sister one day decides she wants to kiss girls instead of boys, what would you do?”

“Nothing.” Michael shrugged. “Tell her to not go for the straight ones, probably.”

He winced at the memory of a certain dark-haired boy with green eyes, that long belonged to his past.

Calum, beside him, hummed. “Exactly.”

They entered the cafeteria, making a beeline for one of the round tables at the windows. Luke and Ashton were caught up in a discussion about whether or not bandanas counted as official headwear when they joined them.

“This is ridiculous. It’s a scrap of fabric and not a hat.” Luke huffed the moment Michael slumped down next to him. Their fingers intertwined with the security of an automatism. Grinning to himself Michael bit into his sandwich.

Ashton gasped, throwing a fry at Luke that Michael caught before it could ruin Luke’s pristine white shirt. “Take that back, you uncultured swine. Bandanas have an ancient history, okay?”

“No food throwing.” Calum stated, coffee irides not leaving his phone.

Ashton sighed, but with mirth bright as always in his eyes. “Doesn’t matter what you say, anyways. I’m gonna be wearing bandanas ‘til the day I die.”

“Or you get a proper job.” Luke added innocently.

Before Ashton could answer he was distracted by Calum showing him something on his phone.

“We lost the other two to the world of Pokemon jokes, I fear.” Michael whispered as soon as he was sure Calum and Ashton definitely were caught up in each other.

“Ah, those damn Pokemons, it’s always them.” Luke sighed, cracking up the next moment and smothering his laugh in Michael’s shoulder.

“I missed you.” He breathed into Michael’s ear as soon as he had calmed down.

“I missed you as well.”

Michael pressed a kiss into Luke’s hair. He could’ve gone for the blind boy’s lips instead but - like basically every other thing - they hadn’t talked about school and their updated relationship status yet. Michael had been as out and proud at his old school as it got and he didn’t plan on re-entering the closet any time soon. However this was about Luke and he would rather die than outing Luke against his will. But again he wasn’t too worried. They had time to talk about it. They were boyfriends now. The first and last companion to each other. When he closed his eyes, Michael felt nothing but whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	9. Show Me Where Trouble Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title lifted from 'Pull Me Down' by Mikke Ekko.
> 
> Also there is some strong and vulgar language in this chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Clearing his throat to draw attention, Michael placed his elbows on the countertop separating the room. The student's office was empty save for them.

"Michael."

He plastered the brightest smile on his face he could muster. "Kayla! How are you?"

"Fine." The girl sniffed and turned away to staple some papers together. "You didn't call me."

"I'm so sorry. I lost the paperslip and was too shy to ask." He looked down, rubbing his thumb over a smudge of sharpie .

"Happens sometimes. Especially with..." He glanced up through his lashes, a tiny pout forming on his lips. "... beautiful girls like you."

He didn't have to look up to hear the low gasp of air that escaped Kayla's lips. Within a heartbeat she was back at her place, staring at him, arms crossed in front of her chest. "You think I'm beautiful?"

Michael opened his mouth in shock. "Of course."

Kayla furrowed her brows. "Why... t-thank you."

"You're welcome." He smiled, leaning a little bit closer. Kayla's face turned half smug, half flustered. "I love that we're friends, by the way."

"We are?"

"Mhmh." Michael tilted his head, his breath ghosting against her cheek. "I think so, yeah."

Kayla cracked, surging forward. He quickly leaned back, smoothing the motion over by placing a hand on her arm.

"I'd love to talk to you longer but I'm..." He placed a hand on his stomach. "...feeling quite sick."

Her eyes grew wide in concern. "Oh no, do you need something?"

“Water?”

“Yeah, that would be great.”

“Alright, I’ll be back in a minute.” Kayla shot him a wink before disappearing into the closed off  kitchen area. The second she was out of sight Michael swung himself over the counter. Smoothly he landed on his feet, eyes searching the three desks around him. Quickly he found what he had been looking for. A smug smile tugging on his lips, his hand darted forward, snatching the item up and letting it disappear in the precariously opened pocket of his backpack. He was already gone when Kayla returned with the water.

*

Michael could already hear the familiar cacophony of in-class chatter and hushed gossip as he knocked on the door. The voices died down, a single older and female one raising up. "Come in!"

A serious expression carved into his features he opened the door. The class was small, only about a dozen people. The teacher was standing at the front, one hand holding a piece of chalk, the other akimbo.

"How can we help you?"

"Sorry." Michael said and walked to her desk. He could hear some of the more immature kids snicker. It didn't bother him. All of them were younger than him, automatically unimportant. Michael handed the paper in his hands over. The teacher's expression changed from wary - presumably because of the hair - to serious as she read.

"Of course, yeah." She nodded a few times. "Take him."

"I will."

Michael was barely able to contain the smug grin as he walked past the first few rows.  
“What are you doing?”The blind boy asked through pressed lips as Michael pulled him out of his seat. Only the older boy was able to hear him.

“Saving you from…” He shot a quick glance at the blackboard. “Politics? My god, Hemmings.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you, babe.”

Luke turned his head away at that but Michael still could see the blush creeping up the younger boy’s neck. Shouldering the Luke’s backpack he guided them towards the door.

*

Luke giggled into his ear, promptly trying to smother the sound with his hand.

"I can't believe you did this."

Michael grinned against the blind boy's throat. "I wish I would have photographed her face though. This was the best thing I've ever done."

Luke hummed, lips falling into a silent _o_ as Michael worked his way up to his ear lobe. "How-" Luke sucked in a breath. "How exactly did you even manage to get me out of there?"

"You mean the letter of notification that said your mother called, you have a terrible terrible urgent doctor's appointment?"

Michael detached his mouth from Luke's skin and shrugged. “I’ve got my ways."

"Oh, please." The blind boy rolled his eyes.

"Some secrets, dearest boyfriend, are better left untold."

"Alright, tell me not." Luke huffed but the happy blush on his cheeks betrayed him. "But know I am mildly concerned as you clearly show intentions of corruption towards me."

"Oh no, you have figured me out. I have let you know that it is my sole purpose in life to corrupt pretty Straight A students who aren't that straight after all." To emphasise his words, he let his fingers slip underneath the hem of Luke's shirt and rubbed the small of his back. Luke shuddered at the touch.

"Making out in the back of the library, tsk tsk, who would've thought."

Luke’s hand wrapped around Michael's bicep, voice not fully pulling off the false concern. "What if I end up becoming truant?"

"I'd still love you."

"You're stupid."

"Stupidly genius." Michael hissed. "Shit, I hope your mum won't kill me if she ever finds out."

"I'm gonna protect you." Luke said, voice full of confidence.

"My hero." Michael clutched his heart, crowding Luke against the bookshelf behind them. "Now kiss me, please, I'm skipping English for this."

So Luke did.

*

They were walking over the school yard, the school day being finally over. History’s tiredness was still heavy in Michael's bones, making him yawn.

"Hey, Michael?"

"Yes, me sun and moon."

Luke slapped him on the chest, a small giggle escaping his lips. "Shut up, you oaf. Come over to mine tonight, okay? Mum was pretty pissed last night but tonight's date night and Dad bought opera tickets again."

Michael grinned. They had started Game of Thrones last night. Unfortunately Liz had not been that amused when Michael had brought Luke home way after midnight on a Wednesday. Though that really wasn't Michael’s fault. It had been Luke who had fallen asleep first. "Will do."

Luke smiled, small clouds of breath forming in front of his lips with every exhale. It was the end of October and winter was coming early this year. But Michael couldn't complain when Luke would randomly stick his hands underneath Michael's sweater. He continued to crave the younger boy's touch more than anything else. He was fumbling for his keys when he smelled the smoke. Like cigarettes but not quite, a citrus note added and... That was not possible.

Panic rising in his chest, he stared at the figure sprawled out on the hood of his car. The boy looked up at Michael with lazy green eyes, sandy brown quiff interrupted by a bright silver streak. Michael's mouth fell open.

“What’s happening, homeboy?”

Grinning the boy jumped off his car, opening his arms. He frowned when Michael didn’t move. "What, no hug?"

For a moment Michael was frozen, then he let go of Luke's hand. "Jacon?"

"Yes, you idiot!"

"Jacon!" Michael laughed, wrapping his arms around the other boy's neck, inhaling the familiar scent of cigarette smoke, sun-burned asphalt and a place seven hours away that wasn't his home anymore.

"'Bout time you realise it's me. Took me for-fucking-ever to get to this shit place."

"You stole your dad's car again?"

Jacon laughed. "Nah, bro, bus and train."

"I can't believe this!"

"Haha, I hope you hurry up doing it, because I need to sleep at yours."

"Bags?"

Jacon shot him a sly grin. "Already in your back seat."

"You haven't forgotten anything, I see."

“Oh, please.” Jacon rolled his eyes.

That was when Michael remembered they weren’t alone. Luke was still standing where Michael had left him. Hastily he took a few steps back and took the hand he had let go of.

“Jacon, this is Luke.”

Jacon’s eyes swiped over the blind boy, flicking from his shades, to the band around his arm to their joint hands. He raised a pointed eyebrow at Michael before he grabbed Luke’s remaining hand and shook it enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you, bro. Name’s James Constantine, but you can call me Jacon.”

“Everyone does.” Michael mouthed along.

Luke shot an unsure smile into the new boy’s direction, his grip on Michael’s hand tightening. “Hi.”

“Jacon is an old friend of mine.” Michael explained, placing a calming kiss onto Luke’s temple.

“The oldest.” The other boy corrected, omnipresent grin widening. His eyes darted a few times back and forth between Luke and Michael.  “And you two are…”

“I’m his boyfriend.” There was a undertone to Luke’s voice, a venom along with the pride that Michael had never heard before. If he wouldn’t have know the blind boy as well as he did he would have missed it. Michael recognised the glint that flashed over Jacon’s eyes, the way his pupils widened. Michael remembered why the last words he had spoken to Jacon were ‘Fuck you, you motherfucker!’. Instinctively he took a step forward, half in front of Luke..

“Anyways what are you doing here, mate?” He asked to disperse the vibe his friend was giving off.

Luckily Jacon seemed to take the bait. “What, can I not visit my brother from another mother without a reason?” He smiled. “I missed you, mate. You never called, never hit up any of the boys.”

Because they are not a part of me anymore, Michael thought. Faking a guilty smile, he rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry about that…”

“You better be. Damn good thing I’m forgiving.” Jacon shot him an easy smile. “Let’s go, though. I’m starving.”

And with that the partially silver-haired boy opened the car door and flopped down on the back seat. Michael couldn’t do much more than squeeze Luke’s hand and mutter an apology. What for he didn’t even knew himself.

*

Unsurprisingly the inquisition began as soon as they had dropped Luke off. At the next red light, Jacon weaseled himself onto the passenger seat. Not bothering to put the seatbelt on - he never did - he turned his body and full attention to Michael.

“Sooo... you and Helen Keller?”

“Say a bad word about him and I’m gonna rip you a new one.”

“Woah, shit. “Jacon whistled. “You’re in deep. What happened to the old Michael, man? Blind boy has to have some kind of magical dick… or no, wait, it was hole right?”

“Jacon, I swear to god I’m  gonna drive you against the next wall.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be a killjoy. Michael Clifford and a boyfriend? Singular? Let me have this. Can’t wait to get to know the kid. Speaking of which…”

“He’s sixteen. It’s perfectly legal. Now shut up.”

“Alright, alright. One last thing though…”

Michael sighed. “What?”

“Why?!”

Jacon was lucky they were already at the apartment building. Otherwise Michael would’ve kicked him out of the car right then and there. Wheezing, Michael shut off the engine. Then met the green irides focussed on him. “There is no why. There is just me and him. And I really do love him. Don’t do the thing, would you?”

Jacon’s eyes twinkled full of mischief before they grew soft. “Okay, okay, I get it. Touchy subject. No fucking around with the blind boy.”

“Good.”

“Are you at least a little bit happy to see me?”

Michael felt an honest smile tug at his lips. “Of course.”

Jacon grinned. “Good."

They got out of the car. Jacon slung an arm around his shoulder as they looked up at Michael's new home.

"I plan to stay a while.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	10. Secrets Only Trouble Knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title lifted from the same song as last chapter.  
> Somehow this ended up being twice as long as usual. I love all of you, lil beans. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Already broke your bedframe, huh?"

Michael rolled his eyes, shouldering past Jacon and flopping down on the beanbag chair in the corner of his room. "The movers broke it. And because of that comment you are sleeping on the floor."

"Meh." Jacon shrugged and dumped his bags next to Michael's desktop. "Had it worse. Where's the little one? Haven't seen her in ages."

"School, probably as she's you know nine."

"Ah, I missed your sarcasm man. The twins are so literal, irks me."

"How are they?"

"Alright. Twins and shit. But how are you? I'd die here. This town reeks of stuck-upness."

"It's okay." Michael felt the sudden need to protect his new home. "Most people are fuckboys but I found some who aren't so..."

He waved his hand.

Jacon cooed. "Ah, look at you, all settled in. Can't wait to meet your friends. Test them myself."

"You are not testing them!"

"Of course not." Jacon smiled at him. "So what are we gonna do tonight?"

Michael scratched his chin. "Well, uh... it's friday so that means family night."

"Family night?"

"Yeah, it's this thing with my friends. We hang out at someone's house and stuff."

Jacon raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Alright then, I'm game. Can we pick up your sister now at least?"

Michael sighed. "Sure."

*

Libby's school offered a daycare service for children with working parents. Till five in the afternoon all affected children got scooped up in one classroom, doing homework or playing little games. Libby squealed when she spotted Jacon standing in the door, throwing herself into his arms. A small pout formed on Harry's lips who was left sitting on their shared table. His hazel eyes trailed how the drawing he had been handing her flailed to the ground. Expression growing impassive, he hopped off his chair and slendered over.

"Hey, Harry."

The boy nodded at Michael, eyes flicking right back to Libby who was busy tugging at Jacon's silver streak.

"...staying?"

"As long as you want it, princess." Jacon beamed at her, then shuffling around to offer her a piggyback ride. Michael was left to pick up his sister's stuff, greeting the teacher with a nod. Harry followed him, climbing back onto his chair, growling at Jacon from a distance.

Michael chuckled internally. "You want to come over for dinner soon, Harry?"

The boy looked at him, searching his eyes unsurely. Michael smiled reassuringly and Harry lit up, a tiny smile forming on his lips. He nodded quickly, then got back to colouring.

Michael packed his sister's stuff up and carried her backpack to the door where Jacon and Libby were waiting, Libby beaming down at Michael from her throne on Jacon’s back.

"Alright, fellas, let's go."

Dutifully Jacon trotted after him as Michael lead them to the car.

*

Watching Calum and Jacon meet was a lot like watching an animal documentary. There was Calum on the one side with his preppy clothing and outer superiority, the apex lion in his habitat, and then on the other side there was Jacon, all ripped clothing and mischief in his eyes, a wolf alike the one Michael knew he had tattooed on his calf. The two boys stood in front of each other, in the middle of Michael's living room, for a solid minute, just eyeing each other up and down. Eventually it was Ashton who broke the tension. Coming from the toilet he was wiping his hands on his trousers when he spotted the silver-haired boy.

"Oh." A brilliant smile spread over his face. Skipping past Calum he pulled him into a tight hug. "Hi, new face. Who are you?"

 Of course, Michael thought, if there was one person that would be able to change the atmosphere like that it was Ashton.

"James Constantine, but you can call me Jacon. Everybody does."

"Cool. 'M Ashton. This is Calum."

Calum huffed, turned around and let himself fall onto Michael's sofa where Luke was sitting. Immediately the blind boy snuggled up against his side. Tension merely leaving his shoulders, Calum petted Luke's hair.

Michael watched them for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and dumped the bowl full of noodle casserole he had made on the dinner table. "Food's ready. Everybody to the table.”

There was a short period of misunderstanding when Jacon let himself fall down on the chair next to Michael, just in the same moment Calum had guided Luke there. As soon as he recognised his mistake Jacon jumped up. "Oh, sorry, man. Take the chair, no problem, I can sit over there."

"No, it's alright."

"I insist." Smiling, Jacon pressed Luke down on the chair. Michael was about to say something but Jacon caught his gaze and shook his head, his 'No Biggie' smile tilting the corners of his mouth upwards. Focussing on the food instead, Michael let it go, ignoring Calum's intent stare.

After dinner Calum and Ashton excused themselves to gather everyone’s jackets.

“Woah, what are we doing?” Jacon asked once Ashton had dumped the massive fabric pile onto Michael’s sofa. Calum shot the silver-streaked boy a close-mouthed smile, then he slowly bared his teeth into a grin. “Haven’t you heard? The carnival is in town.”

“A fair?”

“Yes, a fair.” Michael supplied from where he was busy tying a scarf around Luke’s neck. The blind boy scrunched up his nose at the rough fabric so Michael kissed him, earning a light shove to the chest.

“Hey, don’t reject my love!”

Luke huffed latching onto his side. In retaliation Michael slipped his hand past the three layers of shirt, hoodie, jacket and scraped his nails over the soft flesh of Luke’s hip, making the younger boy squirm. “I hate you so much.” Luke whined.

Michael cackled. “Liar, you love me.”

“Mhm.” Luke cocked his head to the side. “I do.” Then there was the scent of lime grass shampoo filling Michael’s nose, the feeling of always cold fingers against the back of his neck and most importantly Luke’s lips pressing against his. The blind boy kissed him with unapologetic ferocity, demanding every inch of attention Michael was able to give as if he wanted to imprint his lips on Michael’s for the rest of time.

“You two coming?” Calum asked from the door, not quite able to hide the fond expression on his face. Michael hadn’t even realised the others had already left the flat.

“Yes. Yes, we’re right there.”

Calum nodded and disappeared, leaving the door open behind him.

Michael took Luke’s hand. “You ready?”

“Ready.” Luke smiled at him, intertwining their fingers.

*

The fair was bigger than Michael had expected. Countless bulbs lit up the night sky in multiple colours, every shack and booth twinkling. Children were running around, helium-filled balloons tied to their wrists, their screams merely overpowering the cacophony of Drum’n’Bass tracks most bigger rides were blasting. The smell of fried food and crystallised sugar was heavy in the air. They decided to tag along with the crowd for some time until they would eventually spot something they wanted to do. It didn’t take two minutes however until Ashton dragged them to a candy cotton stand.

“Do you really think it is smart to eat well _anything_ before that?” Michael asked, pointing to the biggest attraction at the fair, a humongous Dive coaster.

Ashton’s mouth dropped open. Calum quickly filled it with candy cotton and patted Ashton on the back before turning towards Michael. “Ashton is afraid of roller coasters.”

“His loss.” Jacon chimed in from where he was busy shoving a whole hot dog into his mouth at once. Chewing, he laid a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “More fun for us, right, Mikey?”

Michael high-fived him.

“I’m in as well.”

It wasn’t just Michael’s head that turned to look at Luke.

“Lukey…” Calum tried but the blind boy waved him off.

“I used to close my eyes anyways. Can’t be that different, right?” A crease of determination appeared between Luke’s eyebrows.

“But…”

“If you want to try, we’ll try.” Michael interrupted Calum. Luke squeezed his hand in return, a small smile appearing on his face.

“Great, we’re all settled then?” Jacon wiped the remnants of Hot Dog sauce on his fingers off at his jeans and lead the way to the roller coaster. The queue was nearly as humongous as the attraction itself so Michael spend the time listening to Ashton and Jacon discussing their favourite Marvel movie  (The Incredible Hulk for Ashton, Guardians of the Galaxy for Jacon). Calum and Luke were a little behind, having a conversation on their own, Michael couldn’t hear over the bustling of the people around them. Once they got to the boarding platform Luke returned to Michael’s side, clinging to his arm, an excited smile on his face.

“Everything okay?” Michael asked.

Luke tilted his head to the side, pulling his eyebrows and bottom lip up. “Everything’s fine. Why?”  

Michael watched Calum who wouldn’t take the ride out of solidarity to Ashton, walk down the platform to the exit stairs. He looked vaguely pissed off. Then again Michael was at least ninety per cent sure that was Calum’s default expression. “Nothing.” He shook his head and handed the attendant their tickets. “Let’s do this!”

They all survived the roller coaster more or less scatheless. Michael was a bit wobbly on his knees afterwards but still managed to chase down Jacon who was evidently giddy from the adrenaline and stole his snapback. Luke seemed fine as well, maybe a bit pale but upon Calum’s inquiry he just shook his head and smiled.

“Again?” Jacon asked, tugging on Michael’s collar.

“Nah, mate. Let’s do something Ashton wants to do as well.”

The curly-haired boy lit up at Michael’s words, pointing towards the next Aunt Sally. “I want the dog. I’m gonna name him Ketchup.”

“Ashton, you are not touching any of those rifles. There is a reason you’re goalie.”

“Hey, my aim is not that terrible.” Seeing Ashton frown was a lot like watching a flower being trampled on, Michael decided. It just wasn’t right.

Calum seemed to think so as well. “Fine, will you shut up if I win the damn dog for you?”

Ashton sniffled, tilting his chin up and away. He crossed his arms in front of his chest but there was an unmissable hint of glee in his voice. “Maybe.”

Calum stared at his friend for a good ten seconds. Then he rolled his eyes and turned towards the stall owner. “Once, please.” Ashton beamed.

Twenty minutes, fifty dollars and twelve refills later Ashton was clutching a humongous brown plush dog against his chest, stroking his admittedly soft fur and giggling sweet nothings into his ear.

“Thank god, mate.” Jacon groaned the moment Calum had handed the price to Ashton, rolling of the counter he had been perched on. “That was the longest foreplay I’ve ever witnessed. Next time just buy him a gingerbread heart or summat.”

Michael could see Calum’s eyes turn a dangerous shade of dark at the comment so he held Jacon back as the rest of their group walked along.

“Stop provoking shit.”

“I’m not-”

“Yes you are.” Michael furrowed his brows. “I know you can’t stand him and neither can he stand you but Calum’s my friend as well and I’d appreciate it if you could at least try.”

They stared at each other. Eventually Jacon sighed, raising his hands in surrender. “Fine. Fine, I’m gonna shut my trap.”

Michael exhaled. “Thank you.”

“Sure.”

Michael pretend he didn’t hear the breathed “so whipped” as he pulled the silver-streaked boy along. They caught up to the other three who had come to a halt a few metres in front of them.

“I want to go in there. Can we do it, Cal?”

“Sure. Lukey, you in for the haunted house?”

“No, thank you. I think I’m gonna pass. Where’s Michael?”

“Right here with you.” Michael lilted, wrapping his arms around Luke’s middle from behind, resting his chin on the blind boy’s shoulder.

“Michael… Jacon, haunted house?”

Michael shook his head. “I’m gonna stay with Luke.”

"Alright. Jacon?"

 “Nah, man, haven’t gotten scared in there since I was like five or so.”

Calum shrugged and let Ashton pull him to the end of the seemingly endless queue.

“They’re gonna wait there for some time, we can do something else meanwhile.” Michael pressed a light kiss to Luke’s cheek. “Babe, what do you wanna do?”

Humming, Luke knocked his head against Michael’s temple. “What else is there?”

“Uh…” He slowly swirled them around. “Let’s see pizza stand, can knockdown, candy shack, bumber car ride, Ferris wheel…” Luke stilled in his arms. “Ferris wheel? You wanna do that?”

Luke smiled. “It’s nice when the wind tugs at my hair and my stomach tingles.”

Michael felt his smile falter. “Crap, Lukey. I-”

“It’s okay, homeboy, I gotcha. I’m gonna take him.” Jacon winded Luke out of Michael’s arms with a calming grin.

“Huh? What is happening?” Luke stumbled at the transfer.

“Michael is afraid of heights.”

“I am not-”

“Yeah, you are. I remember very clearly having to call the lifeguard because a certain someone couldn’t get down from the three metre board. It’s okay though.” Jacon patted Luke on the arm and wrapped an arm around his waist like Michael usually did. “I’m gonna ride with you. It’s gonna be fun. Get to know the boy who stole my bro’s heart and all that.”

“I don’t-” Michael began but he was interrupted by Luke. “It’s okay.” A determined smile appeared on the blind boy’s face. “It’s gonna be fun.”

“There you have it. Relax, homeboy.” Jacon grinned, guiding Luke to the ticket booth.

Dumbfounded Michael watched his friend and boyfriend receive their tickets and enter a bright pink, tea-cup shaped gondola. Luke - with a little help from Jacon - waved at him once the Ferris wheel started moving. The excited smile was back on the blind boy’s face and Michael relaxed. According to the information board on the side of the ticket booth one ride lasted about ten minutes. That was enough time to find the next loo and get rid of some of the red bull he inhaled during school. He found a lavatory truck around the next corner. Dutifully Michael threw a few coins into the attendants bowl before entering an empty stall.

After Michael had reemerged he elbowed his way back to the Ferris wheel where the ride was still going. He had barely arrived at the ticket booth though when he was hit in the face by something massive, dark and _fluffy?_

“Boo!” Ashton giggled, shaking the stuffed animal in Michael’s face.

“Ashton!”

“Leave him alone, Ash.” Calum joined them with a fond but slightly exasperated eyeroll. The next moment his eyes narrowed though. “Why are you alone?”

As if on cue Ashton searched the space behind Michael. Michael waved him off. “Luke wanted to ride with the Ferris wheel, so Jacon took him. I would’ve gone too but I’m afraid of heights, so.”

Calum’s answer was cut short by a row of explosions. Their heads whipped up, watching as fireworks showered the night sky in green, blue, red and yellow.

“Look, fireworks!” Michael pointed at the sky. Calum and Ashton exchanged a look, Calum’s eyes growing wide. The omnipresent smile slipped from Ashton’s lips and was replaced by a small puff of “Fuck!”.

“What- what’s wrong?”

He didn’t get an answer. Calum ran. Ashton was right behind him.

“Stop the ride!” The raven-haired boy screamed, pounding his fists against the front glass of the ticket booth. Ketchup falling to the ground forgotten, Ashton pulled him away and took his place instead, talking to the man behind the glass with a forced smile and wild gestures. Eyes full panic, Calum bolted to the boarding platform, running up and down the planks.

“Fuck, fuck! I knew they would start earlier! Every fucking year! Fucking morons!”

"Calum, what is happening?"

Michael wasn't sure the raven-haired boy had even heard him. He felt panic rising in his own chest. Unsure as of what to do Michael sprinted back to Ashton who in the meantime had managed to coax the attraction owner out of his booth.

"... important. Please!" Ashton's desperate face was even more distressful than his sad face. The attraction owner, a bald man with a pudge as big as Michael's entire torso, caved.

"It's okay, boy. You two wait here!"

Wheezing he ascended the few stairs onto the platform, alerting some of the clerks who seemed relieved to see their boss. Their expressions had turned slightly uncomfortable upon Calum's furious clamor.

"Tell me, which pod you need."

"Pink tea-cup!" Michael supplied, glad he was able to help, whatever was going on. The men pressed a few buttons and the pace of the Ferris wheel doubled, green, blue and purple gondolas flying past them.

"There!" Ashton yelled and pointed at the pink pod. It took Michael a moment to figure out that it was Jacon, leaned over the edge, waving frantically, what he saw. That was the moment he panicked. Why hadn't he realised it earlier?  _Luke_ , something was wrong with Luke. Nothing else would send Calum into a frenzy like that.

The shop owner pressed a few buttons. "Got it."

The second the gondola was on platform level Calum ran, jumped and landed in the shaking pod. Carelessly he pushed Jacon out of the way and leaned down. Michael, stuck on the edge of the platform, couldn't see a thing at first but when he did, his heart nearly shattered. Cradled in Calum's arms like a baby was Luke, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks, incoherent words bubbling out of his mouth.

"Luke, Luke!"

He wanted to jump into the gondola as well but Ashton held him back.

"No offense, mate, but that's at least two metres. I doubt you would make it."

He tugged himself free. "What the fuck, Ashton! Tell me what's happening, now!"

"Fireworks." The curly-haired boy whispered, his eyes widening, glazed over. Finally the gondola came to its definite halt. Michael bolted forward, just as Jacon was about to climb out. He raised his hands as soon as he saw Michael.

“I didn’t do anything, Mikey, I swear. The fireworks started and he just freaked out! The fuck do I know, what’s wrong with him!"

“Shut your fucking mouth, you useless piece of shit.” That was Calum, voice not louder than a hiss. Sparing neither Michael nor the silver-streaked boy a look he focussed back on Luke, carefully slipping his arms underneath the blind boy and hoisting him up. Luke just whimpered, clinging to Calum's neck.

"Shh, Lukey, it's alright. You're not thirteen. That's in the past. You're here with me. It's me, Cal. It's not real."

"Calum." Luke's whimper sounded like a scream for help. His irides were flicking around aimlessly as if- Michael felt his stomach turn. Luke tried to _see_. 

"Wait, Cal, let me carry him."

"Go out of the way, Michael." Shouldering past him, Calum carried Luke off the platform, Ashton right behind him. Before they disappeared into the crowd, Calum turned around one last time. "You should have never left him alone. This is your fucking fault. Don't think I'll ever forget that."

Michael had nothing left but stare after them, the high whistle of the fireworks shooting into the sky splitting his skull. Their multicoloured explosions were not beautiful at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*
> 
> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	11. Make It Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title lifted from [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OlY9EDg3joo), which is basically... I don't even... 
> 
> TW Accident With Permanent Consequences; which indeed means exactly what you think it means! 
> 
> Enjoy!

Michael kept his eyes on the Hemmings’ post box when Ashton opened the door.

Ignoring the other boy's attempt to hug him, Michael extracted his arm. “Here, you forgot that. Thought you might want it back.”

Without further ado he dropped the sad heap of artificial fur and fair ground dirt that was Ketchup into Ashton’s arms. Then he shouldered past him, stomped up the stairs and made a beeline for Luke’s door. Not bothering to knock, he turned the handle and shoved it open.

But Michael felt all feeling vanish from his bones as he saw Luke bundled up in bed, hot-water bag with the penguin cover pressed to his stomach, episode fifteen of the Famous Five droning on in the background. The blind boy lifted his head from Calum’s lap upon the opening sound of the door, Calum’s fingers slipping from his hair. A small sniffle escaped Luke’s nose, his voice hopeful as he spoke. “Michael?”

Why was it so hard to breathe? “It’s me.”

Calum, who had been quiet until then, exhaled loudly. “Indeed.”

Michael was about to say something but Luke beat him to it. “Leave us alone, Calum.”

“But-”

“No. He’s my boyfriend, permanent. Go talk to Ashton or something.”

“Lukey…”

“Cal.” It was astonishing really how intimidating Luke managed to look despite the flushed neck and cheeks and puffy eyes.

"Fine, I'm gonna heat up Sebastian." Taking the penguin from Luke's stomach, Calum slid off the bed. The moment Calum was gone, Luke seemed to deflate, slumping into a puddle on the mattress. He reached a hand out, swaying it a little bit around. “Join me?”

Already toeing off his shoes, Michael sighed. “Of course.”

After having peeled his jeans from his legs, he slipped under the covers. Luke’s legs entangled with his like vines, toes cold against Michael’s considerably warmer calves. Michael pulled the blind boy against him, Luke’s hair soft and tickly against his throat.

The blind boy sniffled. “I was a chubby child.”

Michael wanted to snort (he had seen pictures and Luke had been merely sturdy at best) but he kept quiet. He knew it was crucial to let Luke talk.

“I hated it but no matter what I did it wouldn’t go away. Whenever I would look into the mirror all these thoughts- I felt really uncool. And I wanted to be cool. I was thirteen.”

Luke let out a mirthless laugh. “At the last day of  September a friend took me to this party and I was excited. My first party, one with older kids even. That was cool. And it was cool, we were at the beach, there..." Luke took a deep breath. "There were some fireworks and we had an overall good time. But some- eventually some people got bored. So we wandered into the suburbs."

Michael almost didn't hear the blind boy's next words as they were no more than a hush, a whisper into the fabric of his flannel.

"We stole someone's car." The shame and guilt was so evident, so Luke-like in the blind boy’s voice. Michael was glad he was too caught up in his story to notice the slight stutter to his breath.

"Well, two to be exact." New tears welled up in Luke's eyes but didn't fall. "We raced them through town. The minutes before like... I still remember that. How it was to stand on the bed of that truck with the wind tousling my hair and the music and friends. It was good, it- it would have been a good memory."

Another sniffle. Luke pressed his knuckles against Michael's sternum. "I don't know who came up with the idea to shoot some of the firecrackers off the car but..." This time the tears did fall, fell from both their faces, but silently. Michael's felt his heart break right then and there, felt himself bleed into the tiny spaces between them, filling them up until they were one and the same.

"They are called False Alarm Bangers, they sizzle before they explode. I don't know who it was. Not that it would matter anyways, of course. Wouldn't change anything, would it?"

Luke's lips formed a humorless smile. "He panicked, threw the firecracker away."

Luke groped a few seconds before he found Michael's hand and guided it to his face. Michael could feel it then. There were dot-shaped scars in the area around the blind boy's eyes, invisible to the eye since they were not bigger than - _sparks_.

"It malfunctioned, luckily. Could've blown my face off. Instead it just..." Luke's voice gave in. For a few minutes they just were, breathed together, hearts rhythmed at the same beat. Michael had just began thinking  Luke had fallen asleep when the blind boy spoke up again.

"I don't remember the ride to the hospital. I just remember thinking how pissed my mum would be. And I screamed a lot."

Now Luke frowned, his grip on Michael's hand tightening. The words bubbled out of him in a hast as if they were to dreadful to be spoken slowly, to painful to last long on Luke’s tongue. "It hurt. It was so painful, there is no metaphor, no simile to describe that pain. I still get panic attacks from the thought, it’s- well you saw it.”

Luke's eyes swayed upwards and for a spare second their gazes met. It was so easy to imagine Luke seeing like that. But then the moment was over and Luke's eyes trailed on, mesmerising and beautiful and useless.

"The doctors though- they worked a miracle. Fixed everything and saved my eyes. I still have my eyes.” A small smile spread over Luke’s lips. “ At first they even told me I would see again. It was supposed to be temporary. Technically I should be able to see again." Luke beamed, his smile growing before it fell. “But I don’t so that doesn’t matter as well, doesn’t it?”

“Luke.” Michael had never felt as useless as he felt in that moment. He wanted to say a thousand things, wanted to express all the compassion and grief and love he felt for his boy. But somehow, and of course he did, Luke seemed to understand him nonetheless. With the certainty of countless times where his fingers had roamed over Michael’s body, the blind boy placed his free hand on Michael’s cheek and kissed him, short and sweet and fiercely.

“Ed Sheeran says the worst things in life come free to us. I think the best do too. I think you’re my atonement.” Letting out a small puff once he was comfortable, Luke snuggled against his chest. “Might be foolish but I’d rather have you here with me than I’d be able to see and we never would’ve found each other.” His fingers traced down the back of Michael’s neck and spine.

“I love you.” Michael said simply.

“Promise me, you don’t leave?”

“I won’t.” He couldn’t have.

*

He found Ashton and Calum in the kitchen. Ashton was sitting on the kitchen counter, rubbing circles into Calum’s shoulders who was standing between his legs. Upon Michael’s arrival Ashton stopped and Calum looked up, meeting Michael’s eyes for only a second.

Ashton frowned, shoving the dark-haired boy off him and into Michael's direction, a stern gleam to his gaze.

“Alright, alright.” Calum mumbled and turned towards Michael biting his bottom lip. They just stared at each other for a few moments before eventually Calum raised his hands. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I fucked up, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like this. You didn’t know what the fireworks would mean and I was very unfair to you. I’m a dickhead. I’m sorry.”

“You had your reasons. I value Lukey more than I value myself. It’s calming to know I’m not the only one.”

They hugged. After a few short few seconds Ashton joined them, giggling and babbling on as always, face lit up with relief. Michael had realised a long time ago Ashton didn’t deal well with drama. It did him good to see Ashton happy again. Someone had to be. He smiled, bright and open and false, for the two boys in his arms and the one sleeping above them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	12. Purer Than The Water Like We Were

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally back from my classtrip, wooh! Sorry for the long wait, lovelies, updates now every two days like before. 
> 
> Chapter title lifted from 'It's Beginning To Get To Me' by Snow Patrol.
> 
> Disclaimer: Mentions of past abuse, allusions to hard kinks, allusions to violence. Also boys touching other boys. Yeah, that one too. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Michael held his breath, prying his eyes open slowly. Chlorine made his eyes sting. He was underwater, numerous bodies passing over him, unaware of the boy sitting at the bottom of the pool. Stretching his arms out, Michael looked down at his chest.

He was bleeding soul into the water, watched it diffuse into a much thinner, much lighter liquid. After a few seconds his veins loosened and his chest closed up again. It was silent down here, even too silent for his own thoughts. Letting the air escape from his mouth in an abundance of bubbles, he pushed himself off the tiles and shot towards the surface, reemerging with a splash.

"Welcome back with the living!" Ashton cheered as Michael returned to their towels. The original plan had been to go swimming with Jacon Libby at the new tropical waterpark that had opened a town over. But then his sister had insisted on dragging Harry along who then - upon Ashton opening the door - had turned out to be Ashton's younger brother (how Michael hadn’t known this still left him flabbergasted). And after the obligatory hug to overcome the discovery, Ashton had insisted on asking the rest of their friends. The only one missing was Calum who was busy with soccer training.

"Thought you'd joined the sea population there for a minute!" Jacon grinned from where he was sprawled over the blanket Michael had brought. Michael flipped him off and flopped down on top of Luke who had peacefully dozed until that moment.

Luke grunted in protest, trying to shove the older boy off of him but inevitably failing.

"Hi." Michael said.

"Hi, there." Luke's voice was still heavy from dozing. "You're wet."

"Yeah, sorry about that. Kiss me nonetheless?"

"Mhm." Luke pretended to ponder for a moment. "Sure."

Michael felt his intestines flutter when Luke pulled him towards him. That never changed. Probably never would. He felt Luke's fingers trail down his spine, rubbing random water drops into his skin. It took a lot for Michael to keep his lower body still. The spots where Luke's lips touched his skin prickled.

“Aye, can you tone it down a bit, pretty please? I know you’re into the weird stuff, Mikey, but I don’t need the visuals!”

Reluctantly Michael detached his lips from Luke’s to glare at his friend. “Shut up, Jacon!"

"You're dripping green." Jacon blew him a kiss filled with cigarette smoke.

"You're dripping arsehole. There are a felt ten other pairs around us. Go annoy some of them and let me snog my boyfriend in peace."

Jacon laughed. "Alright, honey! I'm gonna treat the kids to some ice-cream." He got up, flexing his muscles in the sun and winked at a girl a few towels over who had the misfortune of having stared at him.

"Princess, Small Harry, follow me to the kiosk!"

Jacon sauntered off to where Libby was paddling in the kids pool, Harry perched on the edge of the pool, his feet dangling in the water. The boy was wearing a hoodie and jeans shorts as, as Ashton had revealed, he couldn't swim yet. Libby didn't seem to mind though so it was alright.

"Hey, wait for me! I want ice-cream!" Dropping his phone onto his towel, Ashton ran after them.  Michael looked after his friends with a fond shake of his head. He startled when he noticed Luke frowning beneath him though.

"Are you alright, babe? What's wrong?"

Luke immediately hid his face in his shoulder, his eyes behind his shades closing. "Nothing."

"Tell me."

"Nhunh."

"Luke."

"Michael."

"Tell me what's wrong. You know I can't help you when you won't talk to me."

Luke bit his lip, his chin rubbing over his clavicle. "What-" He cleared his throat. "What did Jacon mean when he said that you're into the weird stuff?"

Michael felt his blood freeze. His mind drifted off and fell into a hole filled with pictures of a tall boy named  - though not having anything to do with Ashton’s brother - Harry. Harry, the beautiful ex-boyfriend of Michael with dead eyes and a scar above his heart since the death of his londoneer. Tall Harry had been a rebound, their relationship had been nothing but sex Michael had been way way too young for.

"Nothing, it's- he was just joking. Just Jacon."

Michael knew that Luke knew he was lying.

"You know you can tell me? I just want you to trust me."

"Yeah, I know."

"So?"

"It's still nothing."

"Oh, okay." Luke let his head fall back on the towel. "Get off me now? You're quite heavy."

Michael refused to cringe at the detached tone to Luke’s voice. "Sure thing, babe."

He pressed a quick kiss to the blind boys's cheek and pretended not to notice when he didn't get one back in the few seconds before he rolled off of his boyfriend.

*

After they had dropped Ashton and Harry off, Michael drove back home first. As soon as he had parked on the curb in front of his apartment building, he threw his keys at Jacon.  "Jacon take Libby upstairs, would you?"

"Sure thing, homeboy.” Jacon spun the keyring around his index finger, looking at him questioningly. “But what about you?"

"I'm staying at Luke's tonight."

Jacon raised an eyebrow, a sly grin splitting his face in half. "Ah, I see. Princess, come with me. Michael is having some fun tonight without us."

"I want fun too!"

"No, princess. You really don't."

Shouldering her small backpack, Jacon jumped out the car and pulled Libby after him. Michael could see him waving in the rearview mirror as he drove off.

 

They spent the drive in silence, Michael focussing on the street while Luke had turned his face towards the window, lips pressed into a tight line. It wasn't until Michael closed the door to Luke's room after them that Luke made a noise, a small huff of air as he let himself fall onto his bed. Michael followed him, dumping their bags into a pile in the corner.

Luke had already curled himself into a ball under the duvet when Michael flopped down at the end of the mattress, crossing his legs underneath himself.

"I've had three boyfriends before you."

Luke’s eyes fluttered shut, half his face disappearing into the fabric against his cheek. “Okay.”

Michael nodded for no one, taking a few moments to recall everything he was going to tell the blind boy now.

"I’ve had three boyfriends before you.” He repeated. “The first one was called Gideon. I was fourteen and he was eighteen and had a car.” Michael let out a self-deprecating laugh. “You can't imagine how proud I was. Gideon was older and cool and smoked and he threw house parties with his fraternity he would take me to. I was so in love with him, thought it would last forever but…” There was old, such old, seared pain bubbling up in his chest. But it didn’t hurt anymore. “It uh- it turned out I wasn't the only one he called his boyfriend and when I confronted him about it he broke up with me, said it was never real anyways."

Michael cleared his throat. "Well, when I think about it now it's kinda obvious that it wasn't. But at that time I was so damn heartbroken." He leaned back against the footboard, pulling his knees against his chest. Luke shifted so his head reemerged from under the blankets, blonde hair fanned out on the mattress. His eyes were still closed, mouth shut. It would’ve been easy to imagine him sleeping like that, if it weren’t for the tight set of his jaw.

Michael focussed on a loose thread of skinny jeans at the right slit above his knee and continued. "My rebound was called Harry. I was fifteen and he was twenty and the biggest mistake I've ever made.” This time Michael didn’t laugh. Nothing about his time with Harry was to laugh about. “Five months prior to our 'thing' his fianceé had died in a plane crash. I saw pictures from before. Have never seen two people look at each other like they did, it was almost ... inspiring. But the loss of his fiancee had killed Harry off emotionally. I knew it but I didn't care. We... He was into a kind of... For some time I liked it, liked that he would cause me physical pain to match the one in my chest. One pain strong enough to mend the other and all that shit.”

Luke let out a strangled sound. Michael quickly continued. He had to get it all out before he could deal with Luke’s reaction. His eyes stayed glued to his knee. The thread he had been playing with ripped so he grabbed a new one, twirling it between thumb and index finger. “People are right when they say that time heals. Not everything, but most. It healed me. Eventually I was not heartbroken anymore. It didn’t heal Harry though. A few days after I had decided to break it off, Jacon discovered the bruises. Forced me to tell him about the things, the- everything Harry and I had done. That was what Jacon was talking about, the ‘weird stuff’. He was referencing the things I let Harry do to me when we slept with each other.”

Now it was Michael who closed his eyes. He flinched when he felt hands hitting his feet but stayed still as the hands kept wandering up his shins and onto his kneecaps, pressing his legs flat. A moment later Luke had climbed into his lap, wrapping scrawny limbs tight around Michael’s neck and torso. The blind boy didn’t have to say anything. Michael knew. Thankful, he buried his face in the crook of Luke’s neck. They stayed like this for a while.

“What happened then?” Luke eventually asked, already small voice getting further obscured by the fabric of Michael’s shirt.

The older boy sighed. “He uh- Jacon went apeshit. Took the rest of our friends and visited Harry. Never saw him again, think he's somewhere in Chicago now."

Luke simply nodded, his chin bumping into Michael’s shoulder. "And the last one?"

Michael’s muscles eased, tension leaving his body. The hard part was over. The rest was easy. "Friend from school. The split was mutual. We didn't like each other like that after all and then I moved, so, nothing more than a few physicalities exchanged.”

Luke straightened up, tilting his head to the side, eyes raised in wonder. “You still wanted to, after... I mean-”

Michael laughed. He couldn’t resist but press a quick kiss to the corner of Luke’s mouth before answering. “It’s pretty hard to not like sex, babe. I mean it’s sex. It feels really good if you do it right.”

Luke flushed red and hid his face in Michael’s shoulder. His next words were muffled by Michael’s t-shirt so Michael had to ask what the blind boy had said. “What?”

“I wanna try it.” Luke’s cheeks and neck turned darker by the second. “Maybe, if you- if you want to I mean.”

Michael needed a lot more time than appropriate to process the unexpected turn their conversation had taken. “What?”

“The- not- _not sex_ , not yet, I don’t think I want that yet, but there’s other stuff, right? Maybe... I dunno,  I- I’ve never done this before but you have? So you could show me like... how to feel good?”

Michael didn’t realise his jaw had dropped until he closed it. He was overwhelmed by a rush of affection for the other boy, his boy. “Of course.”

Luke’s head whipped up, his eyes flicking around the space where Michael’s head was located. “Yeah?”

A breathless laugh escaped Michael’s lips. “Yeah.”

The rush of affection got the better of him and he tackled Luke onto the mattress, placing sweet kisses all along the side of his face. Next he did something he had always restrained himself from. But now Luke knew. Mercilessly Michael ground his hips against the younger boy’s crotch. “So you wanna feel good, hm?”

The sound Luke produced lay somewhere between a sob and a whimper. Hastily Michael detached his lips just long enough from Luke’s collarbone to shoot a good look at his boyfriend. Supporting his weight by placing his elbows next to the blind boy’s head, he lifted his hips and stayed hovering above Luke, making sure the blind boy was still comfortable.  Luke did whimper at the loss of contact, making grabby hands at him. “Yes, yes, I wanna. Do something, anything, please.”

“Are you sure? You can always say stop if it’s too much or anything!”

Luke groaned. “Yes, yes, I’m sure. Please.”

Michael shook the last bafflement out of his body and began moving instead. Skillfully he pulled Luke’s shirt over his head, carelessly throwing it to the side. Luke’s body looked ethereal in the soft light of the floor lamp standing in the corner of the room. Michael let his splayed out fingers roam down the blind boy’s sides, feeling every inch of skin, every bump of muscle and bone.

_So beautiful_ , was all Michael could think. He trailed down Luke’s sternum with his tongue whilst he unbuckled the blind boy’s belt with nimble fingers. As soon as the belt was open, Luke lifted his bum in order to shimmy out of his trousers. Michael used the time he needed for that to get rid off his own shirt and jeans.

The moment they were both in their briefs, Michael kneeled back between Luke’s legs and resumed kissing the other boy’s upper body. The feeling was indescribable, being able to make the blind boy writhe underneath him with nothing but his fingers and tongue. High off of touching, finally touching and exploring his boy, Michael let his fingertips slip underneath the waistband of Luke’s briefs, his lips stilling just beneath Luke’s navel. The fine trails of golden hair there tickled his nose.

“You’re absolutely sure?” He had to make sure one last time.

“Yes.” Luke was breathless, sending Michael’s high to a new peak. “Do it.”

So Michael did.

*

Afterwards they cuddled up under the blankets, Luke resorting to his usual spot on Michael’s chest. Michael carded his fingers through the blind boy’s hair, making him hum.

“Hey, Luke?”

“Mhm?”

Michael ghosted his lips against the younger boy’s temple. “Thank you.”

Luke laughed. “You’re thanking me? You’re not the one who just got the best blowjob of his life.”

“Not for that.” Michael rolled his eyes, fond and a little pride simultaneously distorting his lips into a smile. “For understanding.”

“Oh.” Luke’s expression turned solemn. “Of course.” His hand found Michael’s. He entangled their fingers. “I love you a lot, Michael, you know that, yes?”

“Yeah, I guessed so.” Michael wiped Luke’s mock-offended expression of his face with an open-mouthed kiss. “I love you a very lot, too.”

Luke let out a content hum. “Sleep?”

“Sleep.”

Luke beamed. “Great, you turn off the light!”

Michael didn’t even found the power in him to argue. Cursing at the cold parquet of Luke’s floor, he skipped over to the floor lamp and flipped the switch. Luke hissed when he returned to their blanket nest and pressed his frozen toes to Luke’s warm shins.

“Sweet revenge.” Michael lilted.

Luke swatted his stomach as that happened to be the place his hand hit, before curling back on top of him. “You’re such a fucking idiot.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I love you.”

Michael smiled. “Love you as well, Lukey.”

A few seconds later they had both fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	13. There Are No Miracles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No song for this chapter's title, but this [video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXGqPTW_1pA) which is just cute and inspired me. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Alright, folks, ten minutes left! Make sure you begin with the last task now."

Michael let his pen slip from his fingers and watched it land on the paper in front of him, the little bounce it did creating a splatter of ink on the side of the page. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he lifted his gaze and let it wander around the classroom. He was neither the first nor the last one to finish, which was calming. His eyes met Ashton's at the other end of the room, who was happily munching on a baby carrot, a pile of paper which looked at least twice as high as Michael's neatly stacked at the corner of his table. It fit, Michael thought, that the epitome of human kindness was also good at school, even four hours of maths. After he had answered Ashton's enthusiastic wave with a small pump of his fist, both their glances wandered two seats to Michael's right, where Calum was still frantically writing, hand flying over the paper, expression carved into a concentrated frown.

Michael wished he would’ve been able to help his friend but sadly he was bound to stay at his table until the exam was over. Contrary to Michael and Ashton who just tried their best for the grade’s sake, Calum needed the C as he was not allowed to have something worse on his report if he wanted to keep his scholarship. Ashton and even Luke had learned with him as much as possible but maths was still one of the hardest subjects to write. Either you got it or you didn’t, with nothing inbetween.

“Alright, folks, that’s it. Pens down! Start handing your papers in; alphabetically please.” Their teacher rang the bell on his desk. With a sigh Michael stood up. He was third on the namelist in this class. After having received his phone back, he returned to his seat and gathered up his stuff. On the way out he shot Calum who was trying to illegally continue to scribble something on his paper without looking,  a reassuring smile. Once outside he collapsed against the opposing wall, laughter bubbling up inside off his stomach. Maths had been his last exam of the term; he was officially done with school until after the holidays that would start in two weeks.

Ashton and Calum came through the door together, their names directly next to each other on the list. Where Ashton was beaming with relief, Calum looked way more traumatised, his left thumb rubbing over his wrist.

“I think I’m gonna get mother’s wrist.” He cracked into a blinding smile. “But that doesn’t matter because we’re done, bitchachos!” Laughing he pulled them into a hug. And even though Ashton’s nose was digging into his shoulder and Calum’s cheek was squished against his mouth, Michael knew, this moment was another one that would join the row of moments deep in his heart.

*

It was probably due to the molten condition of his brain that Michael only realised halfway through lunch that Luke wasn't there.

"Uh, guys, where is Lukey?"

"Mhm?" Ashton looked up from where he was feeding a halfway passed out Calum one fry after another. "Oh, hospital. The usual. They ask him if he can see yet, he says he doesn't, they make up all these fancy theories why he should be able to, apologise and then send him home for the next three months."

"What? Why hasn't he told me?"

"He hasn't even told us, dude." Calum said, eyes staying closed. "We only know because we bribe Liz into telling us. Luke doesn't want us to know about it so we don't worry." A small frown appearing on his lips, the dark-haired boy nudged Ashton for another fry who hastily supplied. "And you shouldn't. It's a cycle. It happens. We help him the most if we don't fret. So don't fret, dude."

Michael surrendered with a sigh. "Fine.”

And he _didn’t_ fret for the rest of his school day. He just planned to visit Luke that night because he was his boyfriend. Not to check if he was okay. And if Luke happened to need his support, then it was just good luck that Michael was there.

*

There was noise when Michael opened the door to his flat. The hallway was filled with the stench of onions sizzling in a pan full of molten butter, not cooking oil. This was unusual.

He wasn’t sure until he heard the low humming, the tunes of an old Phil Collins song lilted under her breath. Libby was still at afternoon care, would be until Michael picked her up at five. Jacon was god-knew-where he disappeared to when Michael was in school. So Michael was alone, alone with his mum. He had nearly managed to reach the door to his room, when her voice called him back.

“Michael? Would you come here for a minute, please?”

As opposed to how Michael had expected it her voice sounded stern, almost strict. He remembered that tone of voice, hadn’t heard it in a long time and never here.

Breathing out a row of expletives, he dropped his backpack in the hallway and scampered into the kitchen. His mother was indeed standing at the stove. It seemed like an eternity since he had seen her in daylight. The dark circles under her eyes belied every denial of exhaustion Michael had heard from her, the tellings signs of aging in her face way more prominent than before the move. Nonetheless the strict parent version of his mother was still terrifying, able to make him want to hide under his blanket.

“Hey, mum.”

“Michael.” Upon his entry she abandoned her position and lead him to the kitchen table - which was empty save for a non-transparent ziplock bag. “Sit.”

He obliged, watched her take the seat next to him, search his eyes and - to Michael’s outmost surprise - take his hand in her’s with the left and stroke his cheek with the right.

She smiled. “My baby." Her hand wandered up to card through his hair. "My beautiful, strong baby boy. I love you so much, Michael, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know." Michael blinked at her, heart in his chest picking up pace. "You- you scare me, Mum. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head, the smile slipping off her lips, and let go of him. Clasping her hands on the tabletop instead, she looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes.  “A mother loves nothing more than her children, Michael, did you know that? There is nothing in this world I love more than you and Libby. And when I made the decision to move us here, you are aware that it wasn’t to get as far away from your father as possible, yeah? Daryl is a good man. It would’ve been no problem for me to stay in the same town as him. Do you know why I accepted Gina’s offer to co-own?”

Michael kept silent.

“It was for you." Again she touched his face, brushed a loose, bright green strand from his forehead. "I wanted you out of town. I wanted you away from your old ‘friends’. They were a bad influence and you know it. Don’t think I don’t know about that car you ‘borrowed’ when you were fourteen. Or the brawls and graffiti.”

Michael cringed. Inside him the urge to protect all the people that had shaped his childhood and the urge to apologise to his mother fought a rancorous battle.

“But that was in the past. I was so happy to see you befriend that blind kid and his friends. See you fall in love with a good boy.” She sighed and Michael nearly choked on his own breath. “I thought it was in the past, having to fear for your well-being.”

Her eyes, as pale as his, seemed to pierce straight through him, when she opened her eyes. Lips pressing into a tight line, his mother picked up the ziplock bag and pushed it towards him. “Is it in the past?”

*

“Hey, Michael. Good to see you.” Michael wasn’t quite sure what disturbed him more. That Liz’s smiled at him or that her eyes were red-rimmed.

“I… thank you, you too.” Not quite able to take all the anxiety out of his smile, he entered the house.

He found Luke in the piano room. The blind boy was sitting on the piano stool, wearing the onesie Calum and Ashton had gifted him to his sixteenth birthday back in July when Luke and Michael hadn’t even had a clue of the other’s existence. Luke often wore it when he felt either contemplative or sad; or both.

“Hey.”

Upon his arrival Luke’s head flew up from where he was perched over the keys, tuneless melody breaking off. “Michael?”

“It’s me.” Michael took a step into the room. A small crease of confusion appeared between Luke’s eyebrows. “What are you doing here? Why are you not at the end-of-term-party with Ashton and Calum?”

“I wanted to see you.” Michael took another step. “I missed you in school.”

Luke’s head dropped down, his eyes stilling in a look straight towards his lap. “I was in the hospital. But I guess the others already told you.”

Michael said nothing and Luke nodded. “Thought so. They always bribe my mum with scented candles. She loves those.”

The blind boy smiled at his thigh, scraping his fingers over the soft fabric on his knee.

Michael watched him for a few seconds, then he asked. “How was it?”

“Different.”

“Different how?”

The words came out so quick out of Luke’s mouth, so clear and montone, that Michael didn’t grasp them at first. “They want to operate my eyes again. Say I might see again.”

As soon as the meaning kicked in, Michael felt his jaw drop. Quickly he bridged the few metres between them and crouched down in front of Luke, taking his hands. “For real? Luke, that’s- that’s amazing!”

He wanted to pull the other boy into a hug, but stopped when he noticed the stern expression on Luke’s face.

“Babe, what’s wrong? It is amazing, right?”

Luke’s aimless gaze dropped to the ground. “It’s only a twenty percent chance.” He shrugged. “Can’t get my hopes up. Especially when…”

Impatiently Michael leaned closer. “Especially when what?”

“They said-” Michael could see tears welling up in his boy’s eyes. “They said if it fails my chances of seeing again are gone. No more hoping for a miracle. Then I’m blind. Forever.”

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. What am I gonna do?" And it broke Michael’s heart, the absolute helplessness in Luke’s voice, when helplessness was the thing, Michael had noticed so often, Luke hated most. Short-handedly he let himself fall back and pulled Luke with him and onto his lap. The wooden flooring of the piano stage was hard and uncomfortable to sit on, especially with the weight of another person on top of him but Michael didn’t care. Luke buried his face in the crook of his neck, whilst Michael rubbed soothing circles into his back.

"Lukey, listen to me. Well, I can't make that decision for you. Nobody has the right to decide that except for you. I can only tell you that I love you either way, yeah? I'll love you with or without sight.” Carefully he outlined the space underneath Luke’s closed eyes with his thumb. A tiny smile appeared on his boy’s lips. “I never cared, you know that, and I won't start as soon as it's final. You're perfect to me. Blind or not. Whatever you want is fine with me. I’ll be here for it. Right here with you.”

Luke started crying after that. Michael held him through it, rocking them gently back and forth until his thighs and Luke had fallen asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	14. Let It Shape You Like An Ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title lifted from 'Tragedy + Time' by Rise Against. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Boys touching other boys, explicit not mature this time. 
> 
> !!MAJOR HUGE TW FOR THE END OF THIS CHAPTER!!  
>  ****  
> If you consider yourself sensible to trigger warnings, please be careful. The affected part is introduced by an **. If you don't want to take the risk but still want to read the chapter message me[here](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com/ask) and I will tell you which TW it is so you can decide if you are able to handle it. 
> 
> Also the beginning spoils the plot twist of the movie 'Fight Club' but at this point we all know anyways, so I think that's not that bad. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Wait, you mean to tell me the narrator dude and Tyler Durden were the same guy all along?"

Michael let out a small giggle - he blamed Ashton for that - and nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."

"No." Luke scrunched up his nose. "That doesn't make sense at all."

"Oh, babe, it would've if you would've actually let me explain what was going on.”

Luke lifted his head from Michael’s chest and bumped his forehead forcefully against the older boy’s chest. “Yeah, but making out is more fun.”

Michael couldn’t really argue with that. “True.”

“Great.” Luke shuffled upwards and wriggled around until he was straddling Michael’s waist. Smiling, the blind boy leaned down and kissed Michael, his hands fisting into Michael’s hair, pulling him up and closer by the green strands. Michael opened his mouth willingly, let his tongue run over the plump flesh of Luke’s bottom lip.

It had been ten days since Luke had told him about the operation. It had been three days since Luke had told him about his decision to do it. Tomorrow morning Michael would drive him to the clinic where Luke's parents and the surgeon would be waiting for him.

His last day however, Luke had insisted on spending with his friends.

So they had started the day off with pancakes at Luke's favourite diner, Calum eating his body weight in blueberry muffins. Afterwards they had gone on a four hour shopping trip, where Ashton had forced all of them to buy a bandana in order to “take the most epic selfie to ever come, we have to document this day, guys, c’mon”. They had had pizza for lunch and pizza for dinner after which Calum and Ashton had excused themselves. Lastly Michael had taken Luke home to watch a movie with him in their way, possibly for the last time.

He shivered when Luke’s fingers slipped beneath his shirt, scraping his nails over the soft flesh of his tummy, making his stomach muscles clench.

“Off.” Luke murmured, tugging at Michael’s shirt. All train of thought was lost when the blind boy simultaneously rocked his hips back, causing Michael’s mouth to drop open and his dick to twitch. “Luke.”

“Off.” The younger boy repeated into his neck, rocking back again, more forcefully.

“Fuck.” Michael grunted. He sat up, catching Luke with his knees and pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere to the side. They had done this before. There had been blowjobs and handjobs and rubbing off on each other in the backseat of Michael’s car. Tonight however was different. Luke seemed to feel it too because before he leaned back down, he gripped Michael’s shoulder.

“Where’s your sister?”

“Asleep in her room. Checked on her before the movie.”

“Good.” Luke leaned down. He splayed his hand out on Michael's naked stomach and kissed the spaces in between his fingers. Michael groaned, his boner straining against the fabric of his jeans. "Shit, Lukey. You're killing me."

Luke looked up at him, lips distorting into a smirk. "Better."

Even more eager than before the blind boy placed kisses all along Michael's torso, navigating himself with his hands. He accidentally bumped the top off his head into Michael's chin several times but Michael really couldn't have cared less. His back arched when Luke's tongue trailed along the soft flesh of his lower abdomen. "Fuck, babe."

"What do you think I'm trying to do here."

The meaning of that sentence needed a few seconds to cut through the turned on mist in Michael's head but when they did, the older boy stilled. "What?"

Luke blushed upon Michael's inquiry but his expression stayed determined. "I'm trying to have sex with you."

"Like..."

"Yeah, exactly like that."

"Lukey." The moral part of him fell into battle with his painfully turned on feral side, the side that urged him to take the other boy just then and there. But that wasn't him anymore. He was in love with the boy on top of him. Cupping Luke's face with his hands, he sat up, so they were face to face.

"Lukey." Michael repeated, his thumbs ghosting along the blind boy's cheekbones.

He would have given a lot for Luke to be seeing right now, able to speak with his eyes not only with his mouth.

Luke smiled at him, bright and not scared at all. "Don't 'Lukey' me, Michael. I'm sure about this, yeah? I _want_ to sleep with you. This is my body and I want to give it to you. Whatever happens tomorrow," Luke's voice wavered for only a moment. Michael pressed a reassuring kiss to the spot where Luke's clavicles met. In return the blind boy mimicked Michael's position, his hands clasping Michael's face. Pinky fingers rubbing small circles in the skin beneath Michael's ears, Luke beamed at him. "I will always have this day and this..." He lifted one hand and rasped his knuckles over Michaels sternum. "... night. I will always have the memory and the knowledge that I had everything on the last day in between. You are my _everything_ , Michael. I love you and I want this. I want you in every way possible. Please, don't reject me. Please, Michael, make it perfect and sleep with me."

And really how could Michael possibly have rejected him? Gently, he let his hands slip from Luke’s face to his neck, pulling the blind boy towards him and pressing feather-light kisses to his forehead, eyelids, nose and cheeks. “My boy.” He cooed. “My sweet, sweet, perfect boy.”

Luke beamed at him. “Is that a yes?”

Instead of an answer, Michael hoisted Luke up, guiding the blind boy’s legs around his waist. Luke understood what was happening and slung his arms around Michael’s neck, busying himself with sucking marks into Michael’s neck while the older boy carried them to the bedroom.  

“But there are some rules, yeah?” Michael said the moment he had laid Luke down on his bed - finally consisting of mattress and an actual bed frame. It took him a moment to detach all of Luke’s limbs from his body. As soon as Michael was free, he walked back to his bedroom door and turned the lock. No way would he have anybody walk in on them.

“Okay.”

“Good, first off.” Michael scampered from his door to his desktop and pulled the bottom drawer open. After a little bit of rummaging he had retrieved lube and condoms and returned to the bed. Luke was waiting for him with his legs crossed underneath himself. Carefully Michael placed the lube and condoms on the bedside table. “If it gets too much, tell me to stop.”

“It won’t.” Luke answered within a heartbeat. With astonishing precision the blind boy grasped Michael’s waist, his hands slipping between the leather of Michael’s belt and fabric of his jeans. Luke tried to tug Michael onto the bed this way but the older boy grabbed his hands, taking them in between his.

“No.” He said firmly. At Luke’s hurt expression Michael sat down on the bed so they were in front of each other. With a sigh he increased the pressure on Luke’s hands. “This is not a consent thing. I know you know that already and would tell me.” It was the truth. It had happened. The memory made Luke flush red. “You are blind.”

“No shit?”

“Stop it, babe, and let me finish. What I means is: Blindness heightens your sensibility. It makes everything a lot more intense. Actual sex is still a lot more than just some petting. So if it gets too intense and if it’s not fun anymore, that’s when you have to tell me, yeah?”

It took a few seconds for Luke to answer. “Yeah, yeah, I think I understand that. I will.”

“Promise?”

Luke smiled, his eyes swaying up and down the approximate location of Michael's head. “Promise.”

"Good."

It was easy, the transition practically non-existent, to let go off the levelheaded part of him. Without warning Michael grabbed Luke's ankle and pulled on it. Luke fell flat on his back with a shriek and within seconds Michael was on top of him, slotting their mouths together. "You know what's really unfair?"

Luke's answer was breathless and decisively rugged. "What?"

"Clothes." Impatiently Michael ripped on the buttons of Luke's shirt, making the other boy inhale sharply.

"God, this is so hot." Luke groaned out, his eyes screwing shut the moment Michael's mouth touched his bared skin. Michael  felt the blind boy shiver as he dragged his cold teeth over the skin above his waist band. He took his time, a torturous amount of time, to suck a mark right there. Luke’s fingers entangled in his hair balled to fists. Michael could feel the bulge in Luke’s pants press against his throat. “Please, Michael. Please.”

Michael grinned and shook Luke’s fingers out of his hair before shuffling back a good half a metre.

Luke whined at the loss of contact and gasped the next moment when Michael rasped his thumbnail down the back of his ankle. “Oh ohah.”

“You have such pretty legs, Lukey.” Shuffling a little forward again, Michael lay down on his belly. He clasped one hand around Luke’s hip in order to prevent the blind boy from bucking his hips up, and wrapped the other around Luke’s right calf.  “You’re legs are better than any of the girls I know.” Luke breathed out a row of expletives. Hoisting both of the younger boy’s legs over his shoulders, Michael mouthed along the fabric that covered the inside of Luke’s thigh, moved upwards until he was breathing directly against Luke’s dick. “Tell me what you want, babe.”

“Anything, please, I’ll take anything. Just do something.”

Luke whimpered underneath him and Michael took pity. With nimble finger he unfastened Luke’s belt, undid button and zipper and rid Luke off his jeans and briefs completely. He took a moment to admire the other boy’s naked body.

“You’re so beautiful, Luke.” Reverently Michael let his fingertips graze over Luke’s neck and shoulders, his arms and torso. “The most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Yours.” Luke smiled and covered Michael’s hand his. Michael leaned down and kissed him, savoured the fireworks going off in the back off his head, shooting down his spine.

“You sure you want to do this?”

Luke turned his face towards him and for a split second their eyes met before Luke’s gleaming blue irides wandered on. “Absolutely.”

“Okay. On your hands and knees for me, can you do that?”

Luke nodded, an excited quiver to his movements as he rolled himself onto his stomach and pulled himself up until he was on all fours. Michael used the time he needed to shimmy out of his own jeans and boxers. He couldn’t help the sigh of relief when his by this time throbbing cock finally sprung free. With a stretch of his arm he scooped up the lube and condoms from the bedside table. Discarding the condoms for now he opened the bottle of lube with a pop and squeezed a generous amount onto his index, middle and ring finger.

“So before we can do anything I have to open you up, otherwise it’s pretty much as if trying to go down a waterslide without water.”

Luke winced. “Ow.”

“Exactly.” Michael pressed a reassuring kiss to his lips before returning to his position behind him. “Careful, this may be cold. And again-”

“Yes, yes, I call out if anything is too much. Just do it already please.”

Michael slipped his fingers between Luke’s cheeks, prodding at the Luke’s hole - so incredibly tight that Michael really couldn’t allow himself to think about it any further. The blind boy hissed. After having added a little more lube, Michael dropped the bottle to the side. Pressing open-mouthed kisses into the soft flesh above Luke’s arse, Michael pushed the first knuckle of his index finger past the tight ring of muscle. Luke inhaled sharply, stilling beneath him.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” Luke shook his head. “It’s just weird, but…”

“Painful?”

“I like it, actually.” Michael couldn’t see Luke’s face from his position but he knew the blind boy’s cheeks were reddening right now. A small laugh escaping his lips, Michael grazed his teeth against Luke’s hip. “I fucking love you.”

“Yeah, get to the fucking part of that, could you?”

“Oh my god.” In retaliation Michael pushed further to the second knuckle without warning, making Luke’s head whip up. Slowly Michael began circling his finger, stretching the muscle causing Luke to hiss. “Who has corrupted you like this?”

“Uh, you did.”

“Mhm.” Michael hummed content, resuming to cover the whole of Luke’s backside with kisses and marks in hopes he could distract Luke at least a little bit from the burn of the stretch. Soon enough he was able to push his whole finger in, then add a second finger. At times Luke’s breath would rag but he urged Michael on every single time, so the older boy did. Eventually he had three fingers buried inside Luke, ready to replace them with his neglected cock.

“How are you feeling?”

“Full. Kiss me, then fuck me. I’m so turned on I would dry-hump the mattress if you’d let me.” Luke’s voice sounded strained, leaving Michael speechless for a moment. Then he did how he was told. Crooking his fingers inside Luke, rasping over his sweet spot, Michael swallowed the cry Luke let out at the motion of Michael’s fingers, then he pulled his fingers out. Luke let out a whine.

“Needy.”

“D-do you not like it? Should I not have?” Ah, there was his old Luke.   
Michael laughed, picking up the condom packet. “I love it. Love you.”

Wrapping a lazy hand around himself he rolled the condom on, adding a generous amount of lube despite the condom itself being already slathered up. Then he lined himself up. Slowly he pushed the tip of his head in, gauging every little noise, every reaction Luke gave. The blind boy let out puffs of breath, falling shorter by the second. Eventually his head fell between his arms. “Okay, let me adjust for a moment? That’s bigger than I’ve-”

“Of course. It’s okay.” Michael used his free hand to rub Luke’s side. He was about halfway in and fuck, Luke was tight. Michael’s dick was pressured from all sides, the urge to move, to get more friction overwhelming. “You’re doing great, babe. Take your time.”

Luke took some deep breaths. “Okay, keep going.”

Pliant, Michael folded himself over Luke’s back. Splaying his hands out on Luke’s chest, he placed his lips on the spot where Luke’s shoulder blades met and thrusted inside in one fluid motion. They moaned at the same time. Michael needed a moment to get used to the overload of sensation, heat pooling in his stomach rapidly. Carefully, he bottomed out, making Luke whimper out as his head dragged over the blind boy’s sweet spot.

“Alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just do that, do that again! I need that again, please.”

Willing his body to move at a steady pace, Michael pushed back into Luke, causing the blind boy to groan.

They found a rhythm quickly after that, easy like they always had been. Michael thrusting forward and Luke meeting him halfway, rocking his hips back once the burn had faded, disappeared and turned into pleasure. Michael could tell the exact moment it happened, Luke’s movements stuttering before growing almost erratic. He also knew that he wouldn’t last long like this, not if Luke was so eager, so perfect. Not with all the ways he found to moan, scream, stutter Michael’s name each time his arse met Michael’s hip bones.

“You feel so -- good, Lukey. You feel so good -- around me. So perfect.”

He was barely bottoming out at this point, just slamming in again and again, driving them towards the edge, driving them towards being one.

Luke groaned out. “Fuck, Michael, I think I’m-” Michael swallowed the rest of Luke’s sentence with his mouth, kissing him sloppily and wet and incredibly heated.

“Michael, Mikey-”

Michael didn’t stop kissing him, instead detached one of his hands from Luke’s chest where sweat had glued their skin together and wrapped it around Luke’s untouched cock, pumping the length not more than three times and Luke was coming, spilling onto the sheets and clenching tighter than ever around Michael, dragging him over the edge as well. He came, buried deep inside his boy. Pure sensation coursed through every nerve of Michael’s body as Luke collapsed underneath him, his thighs trembling uncontrollably. Michael barely managed to roll them on the side as to prohibit himself from crushing the blind boy underneath him as their mouths went lax against each other.

The aftershocks came in waves, paralyzing them both, Luke with his back pressed against Michael’s chest. Michael didn’t know how much time had passed until he finally felt enough strength return to his bones that he was able to pull out. Luke winced, once empty.

“I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Michael was sure the blind boy had meant to sound complaining but he sounded just drained, seconds from drifting off. Michael felt the same.

He rolled the condom off of him and tied the open end in a know. Then and as nasty as it was, he just threw it in the direction of the bin. He couldn’t be bothered by the life of him right now, with weak waves of bliss still coursing through him. Only half-awake he pulled the duvet over them both, Luke cuddling up against his chest like he always did.

“Michael?”

“Mhm?”

“I was okay, yeah? You liked it?”

Michael pried his eyes open to direct an incredulous stare at his boyfriend who was hiding his face in the sheets.

“If I liked it...? Lukey! It was perfect. You were perfect. I can honestly say this was the best sex of my life.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you, oaf.” Michael laughed quietly. “It was perfect because I love you.”

Luke beamed at him. “I’m glad. It was the best sex of my life as well.”

Instead of an answer, Michael just pressed a kiss to the sweat-soaked golden strands of Luke’s hair. “I love you. In a forever kind of way. And whatever tomorrow happens, I want you to remember that.”

Luke was silent for such a long time that Michael thought he had fallen asleep and missed Michael’s confession. But then the blind boy spoke up. “I will.”

He fell asleep after that.

**

Michael was awoken by the overwhelming need to take a leak. With bleary eyes, he slammed his fist down on the alarm clock on his bedside table, letters lighting up in painful red, telling him it was merely three in the morning. Luke next to him was still soundly asleep, deep puffs of breath leaving him at a steady rhythm. Cursing, Michael rolled out of bed, scampered towards the door. He unlocked it and slipped onto the hallway. Still only half-awake he made a beeline for the bathroom, the floor tiling cold against his naked feet. A relieved sigh escaped him the moment he was finished. Hastily he scurried back to his bedroom.

Michael would have expected a lot of things to happen while he tripped down the hallway. The doorbell to ring, however, was not one of them. More than confused, he corrected his course and hasted towards the front door. And because he was not a complete idiot he looked through the spy first. What he saw made his heart pound in his chest. Michael would have expected a lot of things to happen, the doorbell ringing at three am was not one of them. Even less would he have expected to find two police officers standing on the other side. Well aware of the fact the he was only wearing hastily retrieved briefs, he opened the door.

“Uh, hello? How can I help you?”

“Are you Michael Clifford?” The right officer asked. He was lean and at least three inches taller than Michael, with dark eyes that held sparse emotion. But what emotion Michael could decipher didn’t make sense. Not in the least.

“Uh.” He nodded. “Yes?”

The officers nodded in creepy synchronisation and took a step apart, revealing a third, much more familiar person. “He wouldn’t tell us anything but your address.” The second officer said.

*

The ground beneath Michael was shifting. Or maybe that was just his limbs shaking.

Chants of _No No No_ and _It’s Not Real It’s Not Real_ kept coursing through his brain as he returned to his bedroom. Clothes, he needed clothes.

“Michael?” Michael nearly flinched at Luke’s drowsy voice. Hastily he clasped a hand over his mouth but it was already too late. A single, strangled sob escaped his lips.

Immediately alerted, Luke sat up. “Michael? What’s wrong? What happened?”

Michael shook his head. He couldn’t tell Luke. He couldn’t say it out loud. It wasn’t real. His gaze fell to the heaps of discarded clothing on his floor.

“Dressed, we- we have to get dressed.”

“Why? Michael, I’m scared. What happened?” Luke swung his legs out of bed, a wince of pain escaping him. Stark naked he stumbled through the room until he had found Michael, clinging to his shoulder. “What happened? Tell me.”

Michael wrapped his arms around the blind boy’s middle, inhaling the scent of laundry detergent and lime shampoo and calm, calm.

“It’s Ashton.” He said, feeling Luke going tense in his arms. “He tried to kill himself.”    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. *runs*
> 
> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	15. Ashton's Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title derived from "Adam's Song" by blink-182. 
> 
> Again, this chapter is highly triggering; and a lot more explicit in the concerned aspect. Stay safe!
> 
> Enjoy!

Street lamps flew past the side window of the police car, making Michael’s eyes hurt. Screwing his eyes shut, he lifted his hand and carded his fingers through Luke’s hair. The blind boy was crying into his shoulder, had been since they had entered the car, pressed as close to him as possible without being inappropriate. Michael longed to say something, anything that would mend Luke’s pain and his as well. But for some things there were no words and this time was one of them. Careful not to push Luke off him in any way, Michael turned his head and looked at the small figure to his right. Harry had pulled his knees up to his chest, head resting on his knees.

The police had taken him in when the paramedics had rushed Ashton off to the hospital. He hadn’t said a word when the police officers, Michael and even Luke had tried to talk to him. At times Michael could see his eyes water up in their glazed over state. He had seen.

*

There was a doctor waiting for them when they pulled up in front of the emergency driveway.

“Dr Quinn, hi.” She shook Michael’s hand and smiled in this professional way only doctors could, friendly but respectful. “Acquaintances of Mr Irwin?”

Michael nodded at her. “Hello.”

Dr Quinn turned towards the police officers. “Thanks, guys, I’m gonna take over from here.”

“Alright.” The smaller officer shrugged and left with his colleague.

After they were gone, the red-haired woman turned back towards Michael.

“I am only allowed to talk to family members, so I need to know who of you is related to him.”

“Harry is his brother.” Michael pointed at the nine year-old who didn’t lift his eyes from the concrete ground. “And we”, he pointed at Luke and himself, “are as well.”

Luke gave a whimper at that, hiding his face in Michael’s shoulder. Dr Quinn’s expression made obvious that she had noticed the difference but she began talking nonetheless.

"Fine with me. Follow me inside."

The doctor lead them inside the hospital, past running nurses and patients either in wheelchairs or on beds, down a hallway and into a waiting area, equipped with rows of plastic chairs and fake plants.

“It might be better if you’re not standing.”

They took a seat, Dr Quinn sitting down facing the three boys.

She hadn’t spoked the first word when they were interrupted by shouts.

“Let me the fuck go, you motherfucker, I swear to god I will rip your veins out and braid them if you don’t let me see him right now!”

“Fuck.” Michael hissed and jumped up, hurrying towards the male nurse standing on the line that marked the beginning of the waiting area, a very angry Calum hanging on his arm. “Cal!”

The raven-haired boy’s head whipped up, his black irides ablaze. “Michael! I got your text. Tell them they have to let me see him right now!”

“I suppose you are another brother?” Dr Quinn asked, appearing next to Michael with an exasperated look on her face.

“Yes.” Michael said before Calum could utter more expletives, pulling the other boy off the nurse and next to him. “And he will absolutely shut up right now so you can tell us what happened, right Cal?”

Thank god, Calum was smart. Clearly still seething, he pressed his lips into a tight line and nodded, crossing his arms in front of himself. The frightened look to his eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Michael.

“Great.” Dr Quinn walked back to where Luke and Harry were sitting.  Calum all but ran after her, taking Michael’s place. As opposed to everybody else Harry latched onto him within seconds, clinging to Calum’s arm whilst the other boy stroked his hair, greeting him with a kiss to the top of his head. Michael sat down next to Luke. Dr Quinn watched them all for a moment before she looked down at the clipboard that had been previously wedged in between her arm and shoulder.

“Okay, now that we are all here, the patient’s name is Irwin, Ashton Fletcher; your… brother.”

Michael and Calum nodded simultaneously, Luke gave an affirmative whimper.

“I suppose the police has already given you a rough overview about what happened?”

“Yeah, we know that he tried to-” Michael throat closed up. Shaking, he closed his eyes and heaved in a breath. Luke’s finger entangled with his, squeezed.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me, I already know. Now I just need you to know a few details as to decide further treatment. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” Calum answered within a heartbeat.

"Great. Well, Mr Irwins blood loss was substantial. We had to infuse nearly two litres of B negative. When he wakes up he might suffer from vertigo the first weeks; throwing up is likely.”

Dr Quinn smiled calmingly. “Nevertheless we managed to cauterise both arteries despite the fact that he was smart enough to cut vertically.” Calum uttered a noise Michael couldn’t completely decipher at that. “We took care of the rib fractures and some other older injuries. He really should have seen a doctor for them.” Dr Quinn sighed as if to say ‘stupid humans’. “However the most important thing is that he is alive and stable. We sedated him for now but you will be allowed to take him home in a few days.”

Luke broke into a new crying fit at that, sobbing uncontrollably, pressing out an “excuse me, excuse me” as soon as he was able to get air into his lungs again. Michael quickly pulled him against his chest. To his surprise his hand wasn’t the only one that rubbed soothing circles into the blind boy’s back. He was supported by Harry who had climbed into Calum’s lap and patted Luke’s arm, eyes still glued to the ground. Calum was not moving.

“But.” Dr Quinn’s voice interrupted them, more stricter than before. “The fact that your brother tried to commit suicide remains. We are legally obliged to admit him to therapy. Otherwise we can’t let him go.”

Calum all but huffed. “Of course he will." 

"We will do anything that this will never happen again.” Michael promised.

With a curt nod, Dr Quinn stood up. “I will hold you to that. Of course the therapy offer applies to all of you.” She shot the top of Harry’s head a concerned look, then looked down at her pager. “If there aren’t any questions left, I have to go now.”

“Can we see him?” It were the first words Harry had spoken all evening.

Dr Quinn smiled. “You already are. He is right, there.” She pointed towards the hallway they had come from. In even gaps there were windows in the wall, allowing the view into the patient’s rooms. The one she was pointing towards was one of the few with the ceiling light off.

“You have to wait until the morning when he’s awake to go inside but there is no rule that you can’t stay here. Goodbye. A nurse will come soon.”

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Take care."

Calum was the first to reach the window, beating Harry to a close second. Michael was a lot slower, having to guide Luke through the plastic chair maze first.

By the time they arrived Calum had both his arms pressed against the window, his head jammed inbetween, face pressed flat against the glass.

“Tell me what he looks like, please.” Luke urged in a small voice.

“Alive. He looks alive. Too small for the bed, uhm…” Michael blinked rapidly, not being able to endure to look at Ashton’s weakly lit frame for longer than a few seconds. “...he has bands around his wrists and there are a few tubes, but yeah he’s, he’s alive. His chest is moving and all, I’m…”

Unable to form the words, Michael abandoned them. He knew Luke knew without him saying it. They all knew. None of them said a word. They all knew.

*

At some point they had relocated to the waiting area, sprawled themselves out on the plastic chairs or - in Michael’s case - the ground in front of Luke’s row so they were able to hold hands.

It couldn't have been more than minutes, how long he had been lying there, drifting in and out of consciousness without ever sleeping, when he was ripped back into wakeness by a sharp inhale, followed by Calum’s agitated voice. “What the fuck are _you_ doing here?”

“I heard it on the radio.”

The neon light above made his eyes sting as Michael sat up to look at the newcomer. Jacon smiled back at him from where he was standing on the entrance line, mischievous glint to his eyes gone.

Calum, who was standing in front of his row, gasped. “It’s on the radio?”

Jacon waved him off. “Not the station you listen to.”

“Oh.” Calum crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Okay, in that case I’m gonna repeat my first question. What the fuck are you doing here?”

Jacon’s expression turned from sympathetic into a detesting sneer as he bridged the last steps between them, Calum meeting him halfway, an almost excited smile on his face.

“You know what, Hood, you can suck my-”

“Hey!” Barely able to contain his own irritation, Michael jumped up and stepped in, placing a hand on both of his friend’s chests. “Back it off, both of you. This is absolutely not the time to go after each other’s throats.”

“He started it!” Jacon murmured, but rose his hands.  

“Fuck you.” Calum breathed, stomping off in the direction of the waiting area.

“He started it.” Jacon repeated, once Calum was out of earshot.

“I know. Thanks for coming. Eventhough you smell like the beverage section of a Shell station.” Michael wouldn’t even ask why Jacon had been at a party where they had listened to the police radio. He was better off not knowing.

“Of course.” Jacon ran a hand through his silver streak, green eyes full of concern. “You alright?”

“Not really.” Michael shook his head, letting his eyes trail around the room.

“Thought so. But man, sometimes life beats you down. The important thing is to get up again.”

“Yeah, that’s…” His eyes stilled on the window to Ashton’s room. Harry was standing in front of it, eyes flicking from his brother’s motionless body to the monitors around him and back. Slowly the nine year-old stepped forward until his hand touched the glass, his shoulders heaving. After a few seconds Harry whirled around and let himself fall back against the window, sliding down the wall. Once on the ground he curled himself into a ball. And suddenly Michael knew.

_Lips pressing into a tight line, his mother picked up the ziplock bag and pushed it towards him. “Is it in the past?”_

_With furrowed brows Michael pulled the ziplock open, the plastic crinklink beneath his fingers._

_The first thing he noticed was the smell. An overwhelming stench of iron made him retch, turning his stomach upside down. Clasping a hand over his mouth, he looked at his mother in horror. She motioned him to go on. With watering eyes, he picked the bottom corners if the plastic and shook it's content on the table._

_"I found them in the bathroom trash." His mother said but Michael couldn't pry his eyes away from the mess on the table. Heap after heap of blood-stained gauze was bunched up in small piles, some just loose bandages, some neatly tied into a roll, tied up ad the ends to form a ball._

_"They vary in age. See how these are rust-coloured but those bandages are still red? According to the smell some of them are over a month old, some not older than days."_

Days. _Michael sprinted to the sink, spitting into the drain._

_His mother came up behind him, rubbing soothing circles into his back. “I take it they are not yours then.”_

_Michael shook his head._

_“Now do you have any idea to whom they belong?”_

Like puzzles pieces everything fell into place. The realisation expanding like an explosion, detail after detail adding to a much bigger picture in his mind, Michael stumbled forward.

_“You’re a good brother, Michael.”_

He crouched down, forced himself to be calm.

_"There's a boy in my school, he has galaxy spots as well.”_

“Hey, Harry.” The nine year-old looked up, lifting his hands from his ears slowly. He looked at Michael expectantly.

_“We took care of the rib fractures and some other older injuries. He really should have seen a doctor for them.”_

The older boy forced a smile on his face. “Can I ask you for something?”

Harry searched his eyes for a few seconds before he nodded hesitantly.

Michael swallowed. “Can you lift your shirtsleeves for me? I won’t tell anybody, I promise.”

Harry leveled him, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth.

“Libby has seen them, yeah?”

The boy nodded.  

“And I’m Libby’s older brother. So you can trust me. It will stay between us two, us three.”

Harry searched his eyes again, more firmly this time. Then he pressed his chin to his chest. Carefully the nine year-old rested his right arm on his knees, whilst pulling the sleeve down with his left hand. Afterwards he repeated the process with the other side. When he was done, he stretched both arms out, turning the underside up for Michael to see. It took the last out of Michael to keep the impassive mask he had plastered on his face as his eyes flicked over the countless finger-shaped bruises he saw, stark purple against Harry’s light skin.

“He got me when Ashy was out.” Harry’s eyes were glued to the ground as he spoke, as if he was ashamed, voice barely audible over the noises around them. As if he thought any of this was his fault. It casted a red shadow over Michael’s vision when he realised Harry _did_.

“Normally Ashy steps in, makes him angry so he goes after him. Then I can run away. But sometimes he get’s angry when Ashy’s out and I- I forgot to put the dishes in the cupboard, so he…” Harry’s voice broke, tears slipping form his eyes, running down his cheeks. “Please, don’t tell anyone. He said he’d kill Ashy if I’d tell anyone. You promised.”

Michael tried to blink past the burn in his eyes. “I won’t tell anybody. Thank you for telling me.”

Harry nodded weakly and pulled his sleeves back down with a sniff, slinging his arms around his knees. Feeling his jaw clench in order to hold in all the feeling he wanted to scream out, Michael pulled himself up and returned to the others. Calum had taken a seat next to Luke who was still curled up on his row of plastic chairs. The raven-haired boy had his face buried in his hands, his hands trembling slightly. Jacon was leaning against the wall next to them, twisting a cigarette between his fingertips. He was the only one who looked up upon Michael’s arrival.

One of the many advantages of knowing someone your entire life was that at one point you learned to communicate without words. Michael heard Jacon push himself off of the wall and walk down the hallway as he turned towards his friends.

“I need to go.”

Luke sat up. Calum didn’t move. “What? Why?”

“I need to check on something. I’ll be back in no time. Text me should anything happen.”

He pressed a quick kiss to Luke’s pursed lips, then he turned to walk away.

“Bring me something from the vending machine too.”

Michael didn’t need to turn around to see the emptiness in Calum’s eyes as he spoke. The distraught tone to his voice was hint enough. Michael didn’t walk fast enough to miss him breaking down.

*

Jacon was waiting for him on the hood of a black Audi. The cold night’s air was tugging on Michael’s hair, wet asphalt glistening in the light of the car park’s lanterns.

“I don’t suppose that’s yours?”

“I needed to be here as fast as possible.” Jacon shrugged, jumping off the hood and opening the driver’s door. He waited until Michael had slumped down onto the passenger seat before he asked. “Where are we going?”

Michael closed his eyes, reciting the address from memory before adding. “We are visiting the reason why.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	16. I'm Gonna Give All My Secrets Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title lifted from "Secrets" by OneRepublic. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Ashton's home was a good half an hour ride away from the hospital. The house was small and neat, impeccably cut rhododendrons lining the gravel way to the front door. Nothing hinted at the violence that had taken place inside for what Michael supposed to be years.

"Dark windows tell me daddy’s not home yet. Do you have a key?"

Michael raised an eyebrow.

Jacon blew smoke out of his nostrils before flicking the bud of his cigarette into the scrub patch beneath the post box. “Joking, just joking. No problem, homeboy. Don’t get your knickers in a bunch.” Running a tongue over his teeth, Jacon pulled a small black etui out of his backpocket. He kneeled down in front of the keyhole, clinkering about for a few seconds. The door sprang open with a clicking sound.

“Not even a chain. Gee, I love the suburbs.”

Whistling he held the door open for Michael. It was when they trudged down the narrow entrance hall that Michael realised this was actually the first time he had entered Ashton’s house. The knot in his stomach was pulled even tighter when he realised that despite the fact that they had known each other for over three months there was also close to nothing Michael knew about Ashton’s life in general. Sure, he knew what music he liked and which pizza topping he preferred, how he was able to cast sunlight with his smile and that he was happiest when they were all together, just hanging out. But that were all attributes of the present. This was different, this was the part of his life Ashton had closed off. This was his past, Michael would make sure from this day it would be.

The hallway lead into a, much like the rest of the house, meticulously clean living room. No speck of dirt, no flake of dust was to be seen. “Creepy.” Jacon commented, flopping down on the couch. Michael gave an affirmative sound. He was busy tracing his fingers over the wall, the floral print of the wallpaper crimson beneath his finger tips.

That was when they heard the sound of tyres over gravel, two cones of light flooding through the closed living room curtains.

“Hey, Michael?”

“Mhm.”

"On a scale of one to that time Parker Simmons called you 'faggot', how bad will this be?"

Michael cracked into a mirthless smile, letting his lips glide over his teeth painfully slow.

Jacon nodded. "Alright."

The silver-streaked boy stood up. He was still busy stretching his back muscles when they heard the front door open, followed by the thundering of heavy steps down the hallway.

There was the thud of a briefcase being dropped onto the kitchen table, then finally the living room light was flicked on. Michael’s eyes swiped over a spotless three-piece suit and tanned skin, over a face that held familiar hazel eyes but not the ability to cast sunlight and lastly, dirty-blonde hair gelled into a side parting. Ashton’s father was a few inches taller than Michael and at least a head taller than Ashton, with the same narrow frame both his children owned and calloused hands.

Ashton's father flinched when he spotted the two boys standing in his living room but immediately gathered back his composure. "Uhm, excuse me?"

Michael noticed the threatening edge to his voice, the hint of the borderless cruelty smothering beneath the surface. Ashton's father was drenched in gasoline, the lightest spark able to ignite.

Michael smiled. "Hello."

Jacon turned towards him. "You want any help?"

Michael shook his head. Jacon was a wolf alike the one he had tattooed onto his calf, a perfect hunter, strong, smart and fast. But Michael was a wolf as well and this man had almost driven a part of his pack into death.  "No. Go pack their bags?"

"Alright." With a pat on Michael's back, Jacon disappeared into the hallway. Ashton's father looked after him, the vein on his forehead becoming much more prominent.

"What the hell is going on?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "This is burglary. I could call the police right now.

Michael let out a snort that somehow ended up sounding much more like a growl. "Haven't you heard? They already called you.”

“What? Listen up, boy, I don’t have any idea what you are doing here, but I advise you to-”

Michael didn’t let him finish his sentence. “Your son tried to kill himself last night, did you know that?”

The man’s eyes widened infinitesimally. Then he asked. “Which one?”

Michael felt his heart expand with disbelief, his blood heating up to the boiling point. Nonetheless his movements were slow as he raised a hand, his voice small. “You are not even surprised, are you?”

Ashton’s father huffed. “Of course I’m not. They are both sissies. God knows, I tried to raise the weakness out of them. It was Ashton, wasn't it? Always knew he wouldn't make it. Has his head in the cloud, the kid. Oh, but I will get him there, both of them. With enough discipline everything is possible.”

“This won’t happen. They will never enter this house again.”

“Ah, and what makes you think you have a say in that, boy?”

“I don’t. I take that say.” Michael bared his teeth. “I don’t care about a lot of people. But the ones I do care about, I keep safe. Always. Without exception. I care about Ashton. I care about Harry as well. All this…” He waved his hand around the room. “... ends tonight.”

“You think so, yeah?” And suddenly Ashton’s father had caught fire, all pretense composure gone. Michael sneered in anticipation. It was easy, really, letting all the anger and hatred take over, let the adrenaline pump through his veins. He had almost missed the feeling.

“I promised it.” Was all Michael said as he took the first step forward. Nothing but the memory of Ashton’s smile and Harry’s arms in his mind, he attacked.

*

He found Jacon lying on the bed in Ashton’s room. The room itself was as meticulous as the rest of the house, consisting out of nothing but a bed, dresser and desktop. It was almost scarily clean.

“Done?” Jacon asked upon his entry, sitting up.

Michael nodded, sucking on his busted knuckles, the taste of iron heavy on his tongue. His kidney was pounding where Ashton’s father had landed a lucky punch and he could feel his left eye swelling but otherwise he was fine. He had always been a good fighter. “You?”

Jacon smiled, patting the two large match duffel bags next to him. “Got all the necessities. May not know much but at least I know how to pack a bag.” The silver-streaked boy furrowed his brows. “There is this one thing, though. Here…” He robbed off the bed and lead Michael to the dresser. “See for yourself.”

Jacon pulled the top drawer open and Michael took a peek inside. What he say made his intestines flutter.

“We’re gonna take them with us as well. He will want to have them.”

Jacon nodded. “Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

“Can you imagine it though?” Michael whispered, his eyes flicking over photograph after photograph, album covers and concert tickets, notebooks that seemed to be diaries and even a letter or two. There was a pattern in the photographs whose meaning Michael pushed aside for now. “Being so scared that you cram your whole life into a drawer?”

He sniffed and his jaw clenched, the want to stomp straight back into the living room overwhelming.

Jacon shook his head. “I really can’t. Let’s- let’s leave, yeah? I’m…”

Michael understood. “Yeah. Me too.”

Together they picked up everything they found and put it all in an empty cardboard box Jacon found under the bed. After they had made sure they hadn’t forgotten anything, Michael lead them out of the house.

They had just left the gravel way when Jacon spoke up. “I’m not gonna come with you to the hospital.”

Michael looked up. “What?”

Jacon smiled at him, his green eyes shining bright. With a lazy blink he pointed his thumb at the house behind them.

“If he survived it’s possible he’ll call the cops. Even though his sorry ass will rust in jail for what he did to Ashton and Small Harry, he can still sue. Can’t have that on your pretty white vest. Say it was me. I’ve got my ticket for the morning train.”

Michael wanted to protest but he knew the look of determination in his oldest friend’s eyes.

Sniffling he pulled the other boy into his arms. “Jacon.”

“It’s okay, brother.” Jacon smacked their lips together, just once.

Letting out a deep sigh, he ran his thumb over Michael’s cheek. “We would’ve been brilliant, Mikey.”

“We would.” Michael smiled honestly. “But I love him. He makes me a better person.”

“I know.” Jacon grinned. “You’re the best person I know, Michael. Don’t fuck it up!”

For a moment they were seven and ten and fourteen and every moment of Michael’s childhood. Then the moment was over and Jacon started moving backwards. “Go back to blind boy. He needs you. They all do, I think. And call some time, yeah?”

“I will.” Michael promised.

And like this, Jacon was gone as quickly as he had disappeared, leaving nothing but the faint scent of lemon cigarettes. Michael looked up at the moon while dropping the duffel bags onto the back seat, carefully placing the box on top. Then he unlocked his car and walked over to the driver’s side. The sun would rise in a few hours.

*

"Shit, fuck, dammit!"

Michael ran. Heart pounding against his rib cage, he sprinted down the empty corridor, rounding the corner without slowing his pace. A mistake, as he realised, when he nearly collided with an old lady in a wheelchair. He boggled against the wall, crashing into it with his shoulder and arm. It would definitely bruise but he couldn't care. He had no time.

Cursing he picked up speed again, sprinting down the hallway and up a flight of stairs.

A nurse called after him when he pushed past her out of the stairway.

"Hey, wait!" He called out, his lungs burning.

"I swear he'll be here in two minutes, please..."

"I'm here! I'm here, I'm here!" Heaving in a breath, Michael slithered to a halt, making his way past the nearly half a dozen nurses and four family members present. "Sorry, sorry, can I get through? Yes, thank you. Sorry."

Grinning like a mad man he not so gently squeezed past the last nurse - the male one that Calum had "met" earlier as Michael realised on second glance - and huffed out a "made it" before he wrapped his arms around Luke's neck, hugging him as hard as possible without hurting him.

"You're late." Luke mumbled into his neck, smile present in his voice.

"Yeah, sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. You’re here.” Michael could tell Luke was close to tears, his smile not completely able to hide the nervous quiver to his bottom lip. Feeling his own eyes start to burn, he pressed their cheeks together to whisper into his boy’s ear. “Does your family know? Am I allowed to kiss you?"

Luke’s dimple pressed against his cheek as the blind boy spoke. "No, but I don't care. Do it."

So Michael did. Grinning he pulled back to envelop Luke's face in his hands. After having surveyed every aspect of Luke’s face intently, having burned every detail of his boy like this into his mind, Michael pressed his lips their lips together. He coaxed Luke's mouth open with a nudge off his tongue. And even though the metal frame of the hospital bed Luke was sitting on was digging into his hip and they had about a dozen spectators around them, the kiss was perfect, sweet and bitter and full of every single promise they had ever made.

"I can taste your sedativum." Michael smiled as he pulled away.

Luke blushed - of course he did. "Sorry."

"Oh, don't be." Michael could hear one of the nurses cough as he slotted their mouths back together. Just for fun, and because he was still Michael, he let out an obscene groan as he sunk his teeth into Luke's bottom lip. Eventually he detached himself from his boy though, wrapping his hands around Luke's neck instead, pressing their foreheads together. Silent tears had begun to fall from the blind boy’s eyes. Michael pretended they were out of excitement, not fear.

"Don't forget. Whatever happens, I'll be waiting for you when they roll you back out of that room."

"I love you." Luke said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

"Too, kid." Michael whispered and pressed a kiss to his temple for the last time before letting go.

“Wonderful.” The doctor, a bald man in his mid-forties supplied, the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. “We’re ready to go then?”

“Yeah.” Luke said and laid down.

“Okay, then.” The doctor turned towards Luke’s family, most of whom were staring at Michael, except for Luke’s mum. “We will send a nurse at times to keep you updated.”

“You better.” Liz mumbled. The doctor nodded and clapped his hands. “Alright, folks, let’s give this boy new eyesight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	17. But When You Ask I Keep Silent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I translated the chapter title from [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2EktodIQFw) which some of you may recognise to be the song Luke plays on the piano. 
> 
> Oh lord, I'm getting emotional.
> 
> Enjoy!

After having spent the most awkward thirty-minute hospital cafeteria coffee break of his life (he had officially met Luke’s brothers and talked to his father for longer than two minutes) Michael’s heart sank when he returned to the waiting area in front of Ashton’s room and found it to be empty.

“What the-?”

Oh, of course. Shaking his head in a fond manner he trudged over to Ashton’s room. Making sure there was nobody else in the hall, he slipped into the dimly lit hospital room. They weren’t technically allowed in here yet but Michael, much like Calum, couldn’t have cared less.

His first station was, of course, the bed. The duvet had slipped off at one side, revealing Ashton's back side and a part of his ribs. Michael tried not to wince at the multiple bandages and tapes covering purple to green skin.

"Oh, Ashy." He murmured before walking to the single arm chair in the room and crouched down. Michael was careful not to step onto any papers strewn across the floor that had slipped from Calum's fingers as the other boy had passed out.

“Calum.”

Michael chanced a glance at the watch on the wall. Seven-thirty am.

“Calum.”

It was then that Michael realised he himself was running on two hours of sleep for a good five hours now. His gratitude for the coffee Luke’s father had insisted on treating him to doubled.

“Calum.”

Michael sighed and pinched his friend’s thigh. "Cal, hey! Wake up!"

“I'm awake, I'm awake!” The raven-haired boy sat up with a gasp, his eyes flying open, arms flailing. "W-what happened? Ash?"

Within the blink of an eye Calum was standing at the end of Ashton's bed looking down at the still sedated boy.

“He’s asleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Rubbing a hand over his face, Calum turned back around, the tense set to his shoulder not completely disappearing. “I just thought-”

He flinched back. “What the fuck happened to your face, man?”

Michael felt his lips distort into a close-mouthed smile as he looked down on his knuckles. He would have to clean them some time, bandage the busted open skin.

“Did you know Ashton’s father beat him? Well, not only him but also Harry?”

Calum’s mouth dropped open. “What?”

“I made sure he won’t get the chance to do that again.”

“What, no, no, no, row back! What?”

“Ashton’s father beat his sons. That’s the reason why.”

The main reason, Michael corrected himself internally. He could tell the exact moment Calum realised how Michael had realised.

“No.” Shaking his head vehemently, Calum stumbled back to the armchair, collapsing into it with shaking limbs. “No. No! He would’ve told me. Why did he never tell me? I would’ve- fuck!”

Calum pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. “He could’ve told me. All the times I asked him about the bruises, he told me they came from soccer, I-”

Calum’s voice broke off into hysteria as he started sobbing, crumbled. Feeling his own eyes start to burn Michael kneeled in front of the armchair and did the only thing he knew how to do. He held Calum through it, built a physical pressure to keep all the pieces in place that were shattering one by one as Calum broke for the second time that night. “I knew he was bad. All the times Ashton asked me to keep things for him. I still have that shitty fair dog I won him. But I just thought his father was strict. How did I not realise he hit him? He’s my best friend and I didn’t know. How, I’m-”

“It’s not your fault. Cal, listen to me, it’s not your fault!”

“Of course it is!” Calum hissed. “It’s always my fault. Always my fucking fault. I take Lukey to one stupid party and he ends up blind. I fail to notice that my best friend’s dad is an abusive arsehole who beat the shit out of him on what a daily basis? I can’t protect the two people who mean the most to me. I can’t even keep them whole.”

And then Michael was pushed back and Calum was stomping towards the door.

“Calum!” The raven-haired boy didn’t turn around. He was gone by the time Michael reached the door.

Cursing, Michael ran a hand through his hair and turned back into the room. His original destination had been the papers on the ground but his attention was distracted by something in the corner of his eye. Heart pounding against his rib cage, he turned his head.

Ashton’s eyes were open. Ashton’s eyes were open and brimming with tears, locked on the door Calum had disappeared through. Ashton was awake.

“Do you think he hates me now?” The curly-haired boy asked in a whisper, eyes casting rain, and Michael lost it.

“Ashton!” He rushed forward, falling to the bedside.

“Ashton.” He pressed a kiss to the other boy’s curls.

“Ashton.” Michael laughed, stroking the older boy’s cheeks.  

Ashton smiled at him, weakly, but it was there. Then he let his gaze fall to the duvet. “I’m sorry.”

“No-”

“For everything. I didn’t mean to be an inconvenience, I just- I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t.”

“No, don’t Ashton, seriously. Don’t think like that. It’s not your fault. You are not responsible for anything your father has done to you.”

Ashton closed his eyes, hiding his face in his pillow. “Was it the truth, what you said?”

Michael nodded for no one. “He’s gone.”

It was then that Ashton began crying. “Thank you.”

There was no big inquiry as to what Michael had done, the same as Michael didn’t question why Ashton wasn’t fazed in the least. Family ties, Michael had figured out a long time ago, could be cut by pain.

“Always.” Michael answered simply. Then. “I brought you something.”

Ashton watched with curious eyes how Michael stood up and walked over to the dresser next to the door. His eyes grew wide as Michael handed him the cardboard box and filled with new tears as he opened the lid and took a peek inside. But this time, Ashton blinked them away. With shaking hands he closed the lid again. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Michael knew Ashton was aware that Michael had figured it out.

“You haven’t told him, have you?”

Michael shook his head. “No, of course not.”

“Thank you.” Ashton sniffed.

“Will you?”

The curly-haired boy pressed the box against his chest, his eyes glued to his knees beneath the thin blanket. “I don’t-”

“Ashton.” The other boy looked up. Michael fixed him with a stern gaze. “It would be fine, you know, if you wouldn’t want to tell him. It would. But not if it nearly kills you.”

“That’s not-”

“But it didn’t help either, did it?”

Heaving in a breath, Ashton shook his head. “No, it didn’t.”

“Promise me you will tell him. He loves you. He will understand it.”

Ashton nodded, falling back onto the pillow, curling in on himself. “If- if he ever comes back, I will tell him. If he ever comes back.”

“He will.“

Ashton closed his eyes at that, turned his face away. Michael decided to let it go. Pulling the arm chair to the bedside, he tried to make himself as comfortable as possible before closing his eyes as well.

*

Michael had been sleeping for merely half an hour when he was awoken by the door of the room flying open. Alarmed, he jumped up the same moment Ashton raised his head from his pillow, but deflated when he recognised the person standing in the door frame.

“Calum.“ Ashton whispered, sitting up.

“I thought you might want him here until we can take you home. So you’re not alone at night. I know you hate to sleep alone.” Bearing Ketchup in his arms, Calum took a step inside the room, dark irides full of fear.

Ashton reached out both hands. “Calum. ”

Letting out what Michael identified as a strangled sob, the raven-haired boy made a beeline for the bed, kneeling down at the bedside. “Can you forgive me? Can you forgive me, Ashy?”

Instead of an answer Ashton opened his arms, Calum taking the invitation immediately.

Ketchup dropping to the ground forgotten, they wrapped their arms around each other, hugging for what felt like hours and seconds at the same time.

“I'm sorry. I never should have done it. I'm stupid. I'm sorry.“

“Hush, Ashton! You're not stupid. I'm sorry. I should have realised what was going on. I should have protected you. Please, tell me why you didn't tell me.“

Ashton’s eyes met Michael’s for only a second before he let go of Calum and pressed the palms of his hands together, gaze falling to the duvet. “Look into the box on the bedside table.”

Confusion obvious on his face, Calum obliged. He placed the box on the edge of the bed and opened the lid. A smile spread on his face as his hands began to roam through the pile inside. “Hey, Mayday Parade, I remember that concert! And so many photos, I’m…” Calum’s brows furrowed as he dug further and further until eventually the realisation kicked in. Michael saw it in the way, Calum’s eyes widened, his mouth dropping open. “I’m on all of them. Ashton.”

The curly-haired winced. “Sorry.”

Calum shook his head, a small whisper escaping his lips. “Say it.”

“I said I’m sorry, Calum. It was not a choice, okay?”

“Say it, Ashton. Tell me the truth and say it out loud.”

Tears were brimming in Ashton’s eyes now. “I'm in love with you.“ He confessed, his bottom lip quivering. “Have been for years.”

Slowly, so slowly Michael got scared for a moment, Calum leaned forward and took the other boy’s hands in his. Gently, he raised them to his lips, kissing every knuckle one by one and then the bandages around Ashton's wrists, where he would be left with jarred scars. “Ashton.” Calum buried his face in Ashton’s chest. “My Ashton.”

Ashton’s face went lax in amazement as he looked down, hesitantly wrapping his arms around Calum’s middle that was half on the mattress, half hanging in the air. “You’re such a dumb fucking idiot, do you know that?”

Ashton beamed at him, beamed like he used to, eyes twinkling and dimples creating ruts in his face, a small giggle escaping his lips. “I can live with that.”

“As long as you live.” Calum said, pulling the curly-haired boy into a tight hug.

Michael stood up, lifting his gaze from the look of grim determination on Calum’s face.

“I’m just uh... gonna join Harry in the sleeping room. If anything happens, call me.”

“Sleep well.”

Michael smiled honestly, for the first time since he had opened the door to his flat what felt like days ago, even if only had been hours. “Oh, I will.”

*

“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks!” Michael proclaimed as he entered the hospital room, causing Luke’s head to fly up before he quickly tried to cover his face with his hands. “Shh, don’t look at me. I look like a monster.”

“You’re very much beautiful.” Michael smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the younger boy’s lips before wedging himself onto the mattress next to him. “But I’m glad that you called me off. Unfortunately I happen to not know much more Shakespeare to woo you with.”

“You don’t need to woo me anymore, I’m already yours, remember?”

“Oh believe me, babe, there is not a second I don’t remember that fact as it is, you know, the root of my happiness. Can I touch it?”

Luke turned towards him, the corners of his mouth curling upwards. “Sure.”

“Awesome.” Filled with awe, Michael placed feather-light touches on the gauze covering Luke’s eyes.

Luke bit his lip. “How does it feel?”

“Good. Really good. How long?”

“Two weeks.” Luke said, an excited smile spreading over his face.

“Two weeks.” Michael repeated, burying his face in his boy’s neck. Two weeks till they could take the gauze off. Two weeks until they would know. “Two weeks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, indeed, even I had to go and scream into a pillow to feel manly again after I wrote the Cashton reveal. Even though I'm a girl. But you know what I mean. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> xx, Carly


	18. Maybe You Are My Wonder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, guys, we- we made it. Chapter Eighteen, I can't believe it. We made it!
> 
> *stifles sniffling* 
> 
> Thank you. Thank you to everyone who has read this. Especially thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments and send me fanmail on my tumblr. I can honestly say I would have never ever expected the stellar reaction this fic has received. I could honestly cry if I think about it long enough. So just thank you. And know that this fic would've have never happened without every single one of you. This is as much my baby as it is yours. 
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

“Michael?”

“Hey, mum.” With a sigh he searched for a more comfortable position. His back was hurting from the second night he had spent in the armchair Calum had left him so graciously as he had moved onto the second half of Ashton’s bed. “Remember that one time you destroyed my life and took away all my friends by moving me seven hours into the middle of nowhere? Guess what? I found a way how you can make it up to me.”

*

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Michael, I haven’t signed anything yet and I’m still not sure I will.” Michael’s mum crossed her arms in front of her chest. “First of all, who will pay for them?”

“I can.” Michael replied easily. “Remember the credit card Dad gifted me to my fourteenth? Haven’t used it once. He said it’s for emergencies. This is an emergency.”

Karen looked like she wanted to comment on that but eventually she just rose her hands in defeat. “Fine by me. It’s Daryl’s money, not mine. I’m just glad you don’t spend it on drugs.”

“Mum!”

“I know, I know. Smart kid you are, never did drugs.” She ruffled his hair.

“Thanks for appreciation.“ Michael mumbled, carding his hair back into place, while his mum continued. “Where will they sleep?“

“Harry can sleep in Libby's room - yes, I already talked to her and she’s over the moon - and Ashton will take the couch. Besides it's just temporary, I swear. Calum's parents will return from their cruise ship holiday in a few weeks, then they will take them in. We just need an adult to sign him out for that period of time, please.”

“Mhm.” His mum looked through the window. Ashton was currently sitting cross-legged on his bed, playing a board game with Harry who received not so subtle hints from Calum as to where to place his token. “Is it true what you told me? His father got physical with him?”

“Both of them.” Michael nodded.

Karen smiled at him. “I heard on the radio that some burglars broke into his house the same night and he got pummeled into a coma. And that it’s unlikely he’ll wake up again. Sometimes karma does get it right, I guess. Where do I sign?”

*

The evening before Luke's bandages would be removed, they all huddled up on Michael’s couch, doing what they had always done. They popped in a movie and ate the dinner Michael had cooked. And even though Ashton’s clothes were strewn all over the place and the fabric of the couch reeked of body spray - courtesy of Calum who flat out refused to leave Ashton’s side for however long a period of time and hence had simply moved in along Ashton and Harry - it was one of the best evenings they had had in a long time.

It was how it always had been between them. If one squinted enough to let the gauze around Luke’s head and the scars on Ashton’s wrists blur, of course. But they were there, all four of them and that was what mattered most.

After dinner Calum decided it was long overdue to play some Fifa. Because Luke was out for that Michael pulled him on his lap, entertaining the blind boy by commenting on the way Ashton and Calum would jab at each other whilst Harry and Libby cheered them on. Michael had originally kicked the kids out as soon as the clock had hit eight. He chose to let it slide for tonight.

In between sentences Michael would place small kisses against Luke’s neck and jaw, causing the blind boy to stand up after a good half an hour and pull Michael with him towards the older boy’s bedroom.

“We’re out for the night." He declared. "Sleep well, lads and lady!”

“You too!” Libby called dutifully after them as all of the boys were too busy yelling over the game.

“We will.” Luke answered too quiet for her to hear.

The moment Michael had closed the door behind them, Luke was on him. They didn’t talk about it. They had done that the night before the surgery. This time Luke just moved, pressed Michael against the door, hips rutting up at the same pace he forced Michael’s mouth open. Michael let out a low groan in response and tightened his grip on Luke’s arms. In one swift motion he flipped them around, so it was now him crowding Luke against the door. The blind boy gasped when Michael hoisted him up. Quickly he wrapped his legs around Michael’s waist. 

A low moan escaped Luke’s throat, as Michael slipped a hand past the waistband of his jogging bottoms and wrapped tight fingers around his length.

”Take my mind off of it, just for some time.” Luke whimpered into the crook of Michael’s neck. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

“I love you.” Slowly, Michael began to pump his hand up and down.

Luke was smiling when Michael moved them to the bed.

*

Clad in his oldest pair of sweatpants, Michael was sitting on the narrow stairwell of the fire escape in front of his window, just gazing at the stars, when he heard the door of the french window being opened.

“Mind if I join you?”

He smiled into the night. “No, not at all.”

Calum sat down next to him with a low thud. His back pressed against the iron bars of the railing, he was facing the inside of Michael’s room where Luke was still sleeping. They were silent for a few minutes, just existing, just savouring the peace, calmed by the knowledge that every member of their small family was inside, asleep and safe.

Eventually Michael decided to speak up. "You can talk about it, if you want to, you know."

Calum let his head loll to the side. “How d’you know?”

Michael smiled, keeping his eyes on the stars. “I’m not blind.”

The raven-haired boy nodded. He could accept that. "God, I love him. I love him so much that it hurts my chest. He is the most important person to me."

"But you're not _in love_ with him." This time Michael met the other boy’s eyes. “Not like Luke and I are.”

Calum sighed, the corners of his mouth curling downwards. "I could be. I am not yet. This all..." Helplessly, he gestured towards the inside of the flat. "This all is new for me. It is new for me to think of him like that. Think of a boy- _no_ , not even that. It is so new for me to think of anyone like that, really.”

Calum ran a hand over his face.

His confession was not more than a whisper. “I’ve never been into somebody else."

Michael tilted his head to the side, shooting the other boy a questioning glance.

Calum smiled, shrugging. "Soccer was always the only thing for me and when the time came where it wouldn’t have been, Luke had his accident. Well, and from then on it was just taking care of him. Taking care of Ashton as well, even though I failed that one spectacular."

Calum's smile faltered. "It’s… that’s what I do. I take care. I never craved to be popular. I never wanted to sleep with all the girls who tried to sleep with me. There was never that interest inside me. I only ever was interested in Luke’s well-being and Ashton’s happiness. And that Ashton nearly killed himself, I- I can’t even.” His voice broke off.

Michael carefully laid a hand on his shin while the other boy gathered his composure back. When Calum opened his eyes again they were filled with nothing but fierce determination.

“There is nothing I wouldn't do for him. I will do anything to keep him alive."

"What about you? Will _you_ be happy?"

Calum smiled at him, genuine. "Maybe I will fall in love with Ashton tomorrow. Maybe I will always love him as my best friend. But I will never not be happy around him."

Michael hummed and Calum tipped his head back to look at the night sky. "He is my sun. When he rises I will bathe in his light. And when he sets it's my turn to rise for him."

"They should have put you in AP English."

"You should hear my turtle poem." Calum grinned. Michael pretended not to notice the watery shine to his dark irides. “I’m not stupid. I know I was part of the reason why he tried to commit. Unrequited love, yeah? I read some of the stuff he wrote in his diary - don’t look at me like that, he left it open when they took him to the change his bandages. It’s- he always seemed so damn happy. That’s the worst thing to wrap my head around. That he lied all this time for- for years. I’m scared he will do it again. That he won’t trust me and just keep it to himself until he - breaks - again.”

“He won’t.” Michael was sure of that. He had made sure of that. 

“Oh, I won’t let him.” Calum coughed into the crook of his arm, inconspicuously wiping his nose on his sleeve. Then he broke into a smile. “I will drag his sorry ass to every therapy appointment he needs. I know it might be foolish to think this way but I’m sure I can do it. I can mend everything that the man broke in him. I can love him like he needs me to. I can love him like he loves me. And when we’re older… they say you should marry your best friend anyways, right? So maybe I'm gonna do just that. It will be a good life.”

“A good life.” Michael repeated, pulling one knee to his chest and wrapping his hands around the kneecap. They spent another few minutes in silence. Then Calum bumped his knee into Michael's hip. 

"You nervous for tomorrow?"

"Scared to death." Michael laughed. "But for him. I want Luke to be happy. Don't know what it will do to him if it doesn't work."

"We will see."

"I hope _he_ does."

Calum clinked his fingernails against the metal platform in agreement. "I hope he does."

*

The hospital room was middle-sized, barely big enough for that number of people but eventually they had fit even the last of them in. No matter the fact that Calum and Ashton were now perched on the window sill and Luke’s brothers had to squeeze themselves into a single chair.

Michael had been smarter and secured himself the leaning spot against the door. He breathed in, the smell of hand sanitizer and hospital filling his nose.

The air was loaded with anticipation when the doctor entered the room after what felt like an eternity. He shook the hands of Luke’s parents, greeting the rest with a curt nod. 

“So, Luke, how are you feeling?”

“Nervous.” Michael knew that Luke’s bottom lip was bitten raw at this point, had felt it when they kissed before entering the room. With a silent thud he let his head fall back against the door. He might have thrown up if he didn’t tip his head back.

“That’s okay, you have every right to be. Any pain during the bandage exchanges, any swellings or irritations?”

“No.”

“Excellent. Let me have a feel?”

Luke leaned forward and let the doctor palpate him with nimble fingers. “Mhm, I think it’s time.”

“Just take the damn thing off, already, would you?” That was Ben, Luke’s oldest brother.

The doctor laughed. “You’re absolutely right. Nurse?”

The nurse he had spoken too perked up and walked over to the cot Luke was sitting on.

There were a few moments after the nurse had taken the bandage off and Luke had pried his eyes open cautiously, where Luke’s eyes, encrusted by a thick yellow paste, swayed around the room. At last they stilled somewhere above Michael’s head. Michael’s heart sank when he saw the slight frown occur on his boy’s face, forehead crinkling, mouth pressing into a tight line.

“Michael.” Luke reached a hand out. Within seconds Michael scrambled forward and took it, sending waves of _It’s okay_ and _I still love you_ and _We’ll get over it_ into his boy’s skin.

A strangled noise escaping his lips, Luke pulled Michael against him. “You never told me you dyed it pink.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that the number of chapters has changed. The ninteenth chapter will be an epilogue, as I thought some of you might want to know the 'after'. 
> 
> As always: Please let me know what you think via kudos, comments and/or on my [tumblr](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com) :)
> 
> I love all of you, dearest.
> 
> xx, Carly


	19. With Every Broken Bone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are wondering why I haven't replied to your overwhelmingy nice and kind and sweet and stellar comments, I need you to know that I was busy printing them out and taping them to my door. For real. 
> 
> Chapter title lifted from 'I Lived' by OneRepublic.
> 
> Enjoy!

**\- Eight Years Later -**

Wheezing, Michael ascended the last flight of polished wooden stairs. It was a pity, really, how well his fingertips knew the different grapes and flowers carved into the railing by now. As soon as he had gained his composure back, Michael took a turn to the left, every single one of his steps resonating loudly on the parquet. He walked past busts of famous authors and painting after painting of medieval noble men before he finally reached door at the end of the hallway, announcing himself with three sharp knocks.

“Come in!”

“Lord, give me strength to pull this shit again.” Michael asked the ceiling before he entered the room, plastering the most professional smile on his face he could muster. The headmistress’s office was furnished in the same style as the rest of the school, bulky cherrywood furniture and clunky chesterfield seats. The women sitting behind the desk in the middle of the room stood up. “Ah, Mr Clifford, right?”

Michael nodded and shook the headmistress’s hand. “I’m the family lawyer. Apologies for being late.”

“No problem. Take a seat.”

Michael obliged, the worn-out leather crunching underneath his weight.

“I assume you already know what happened?”

“Yes, and it is in my client’s interest to express his outmost regret.”

“I’m sure it is.” The headmistress smiled as prestigious as her school was. “Sadly this is not the first time this has happened. This school believes in a “zero tolerance for violence”-policy, one Mr Irwin has been more than aware of. Nonetheless he decided to break it _again_.”

Michael leaned forward, locking eyes with the women. “I will be honest with you. Harry’s life has not been easy and especially now he is under a lot of pressure. You know who is father is. The media has no shame. It is very emotionally compromising for a seventeen year-old boy to get dragged into the spotlight like this. Regardless of that I can assure you that this is the last time we meet. From now on there will be no more slip-ups.”

The headmistress sighed. “This is the last time?”

“Absolutely. I can assure you Mr Hood will be more than pleased to know that this school is the right institution for his son.”

“I suspect he will take part in this year’s funding ball?”

“Of course.” Michael rose, offering her hand.

The headmistress smiled, genuine this time, and took it. “Very well. Hopefully we will not see each other again. Goodbye, Mr Clifford. One of the secretaries will take you to the detention rooms.”

*

“Ah, the sweet smell of freedom!” Lifting the cooling compress off his slowly but definitely developing black eye, Harry stretched his arms out.

Furrowing his brows, Michael flicked the boy’s ear. “Stop being so fucking smug about it, you idiot. This was the last time I bailed you out of it. The next time you get into a brawl, you will be _expelled_.”

Harry didn’t seem to be fazed in the least. He was practically skipping down the gravel way leading to the carpark. “Don’t care. It was worth it.”

“Yeah and do you care about how Ashton will feel when that happens? He already blames himself for the last time and you damn well know it.”

That let the boy pale visibly. Nonetheless his expression stayed determined. “Garrett is a prick. He deserved it.”

Michael picked the bridge of his nose. "Harry, you don't have to punch every boy in the face Libby breaks up with."

"Yes, I do!" The boy huffed. "When they call her a slut in front of me."

Michael blinked. "You've aimed for the nose, yeah?"

"Broke like a twig." Harry grinned and Michael sighed, not completely able to hide the smile on his face.

"Alright, alright. You're damn lucky I was already in a suit."

"Please, as if you do not sleep in those, Mr Topspot Lawyer."

"Don't be so fucking ungrateful." Michael rolled his eyes, ruffling the seventeen year-old's curls. "Now get in the car, I still need to change after I've dropped you off."

Whistling, Harry climbed into the passenger seat, his fingers immediately flying to the knobs of the radio.

"You nervous for tonight?"

"No." Michael lied. Harry was smart enough to leave it at that. He changed the radio station twice before he eventually leaned back.

“Hey, Michael?”

“Yes?”

“You, uh, you haven’t told Ash anything, have you? He’s just so happy right now and I don’t want to ruin anything.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Thank you.”

Michael smiled at him in the rearview mirror. “It’s okay, buddy. We all get into fights for the ones we love.”

*

“Michael, can you confirm any of the transfer rumours?”

“Michael, how did New York feel for you? Did you expect it?”

“Mr Clifford, were you and Calum Hood ever sexually involved?”

“Is it true Hood paid thirty million to adopt his husband’s brother?”

“How proud are you of Luke tonight?”

Michael still hadn’t quite figured out why paparazzi wanted to take pictures of him, not only of Luke or Calum. For now he just tried to blink past the flashes and leave the red-carpet without any incidents. He nodded at the suit-clad clerk who welcomed him once he had stepped out of the revolving door. The entrance hall of the Opera House was filled with people, all in evening attire, all with chunks of jewellery around their necks and fingers.

A good portion of them stared at him as he tried to make his way through the crowd - because of the hair of course. Normally he wore it dark these days - his boss had insisted on it - but for the evening he had dyed it a pristine white.

“Hey, Michael! We’re over here!”

Relieved that his search was over, Michael made a beeline for the middle of the hall.

"Hey!" He greeted Libby with a kiss to the cheek before eyeing her beautiful yet _very_ tiny dress up and down.

"I’m pretty sure that dress consisted of more fabric when you showed it to me online. Bit revealing, innit?"

She huffed, rolling her eye-liner framed eyes (the black smudges always appeared whenever she had broken up with another boy). "The day I dress for anyone but myself is the day I ascend the fine heaves to meet Jesus, Mikey. Until then you can show the big-brother-complex right back to where it came from. Thank you.”

Michael sighed. He missed the times when Libby would agree with him about everything regardless the matter. His answer however was smothered by a mop of curls. “Michael!”

“Ashton!” Michael cheered back just as enthusiastic, patting the noticeably more tan cheek of his friend. They hugged again, just for the sake of it. He could see Libby and Harry, who was now clad in suit and tie, roll their eyes out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t care. It had been  way too long time since he had last seen his friend.  “How were the Canaries?”

“Hot.” Calum answered with a grin, pulling Michael into the one-armed version of Ashton’s full-body hug before slinging an arm around Ashton’s waist. “But good. Good to get away from all the media circus for a while.”

He frowned at the vitreous front of the hall. Several paparazzi had pressed their cameras against the glass, snapping pictures of the inside from the outside. Michael shot his friend a pitying look.

Calum had first gathered the media’s interest two years ago, when he had been signed by Sydney FC. That alone had been stellar. The interest had quadrupled however when the media had gotten wind of the fact that Calum’s spouse was a husband, not a wife.

Over night Calum’s face had appeared in every paper, everybody talking about “the first openly queer Australian football player to come out at the beginning of his career”. Sydney FC had shown their support though, along with all of Calum’s team mates (the more hesitant ones had been convinced from the moment they met Ashton) and so the interest had eventually died down. Up until a month ago where it had been stirred back up by Calum joining Ashton in the legal guardianship of Harry as part of his life insurance plan.

“The Canaries were really great.” Ashton sighed, inconspicuously rubbing Calum’s back. “Missed the children though.”

Michael laughed. “All thirty of them?”

“All thirty of them.” Ashton beamed. “I even got a ‘Welcome back, Mr Irwin’-sign. It was great. Cindy Martens told me I am her favourite teacher.”

“You are everyone’s favourite teacher, babe.” Calum smiled proudly, his attention finally returning to their small circle.

“Not again.” Harry whined. “You promised you would tone it down tonight.”

“Tone it down? Ashton and I? Never!” Calum grinned letting go of Ashton’s waist in favour of taking his hand. “Follow me, Ashy! Let’s give those vultures something to write about.”

“Oh god.” Harry whispered, his eyes widening in horror. Libby gave him a sympathetic pat on the arm before placing her hand on Michael’s shoulder.

“Please tell me you won’t pull the same thing with Luke later.” His sister said as they watched Calum pull a giggling Ashton against his chest and slot their mouths together. For a good thirty seconds the entire entrance hall was showered in flashes.

“Let’s go inside.” Michael decided.

*

The venue was dimly lit, countless round tables encompassing the circular stage in the middle of the area, where a stubby man with an impressive amount of body fat and even more impressive amount of hair was standing, asking for silence by raising his hands. He began talking as soon as even the last guest had found their seat. From their table directly in front of the stage, Michael could see pearls of sweat run down his forehead.

“Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen! It is my pleasure to welcome you to the SSO’s annual spring concert!”

Polite applause.

“Tonight we will not only honor some of our most generous benefactors, we will also introduce the newest addition to our orchestra. From the stages of the world we managed to engage this outstanding young artist as our new principal pianist. Ladies and Gentlemen, please pay Luke Hemmings a warm welcome!”

Michael thought of Poseidon stepping out of the waves and Lucifer ascending the steps to the throne of hell as Luke walked on stage. He looked ethereal in the pristine white button down that was stretching over his broad shoulders and anthracite dress pants that lay snug around a narrow waist. His hair had been skillfully styled into a fauxhawk, skin glowing golden in the spotlight that was easily outshone by Luke’s smile.

After having shaken the orator’s beefy hand, he sat down at the piano, lips inches away from the microphone. “Good evening.”

The applause doubled in noise before it gave space to an expectant silence. Michael smiled.

“I am very happy to take on my new position by proving to everyone that I actually earned the position.”

Honest laughter. Luke’s smile broadened if that was even possible. And then his eyes trailed to the side and met Michael’s with almost irrational certainty, cerulean irides against a pale shade of green in the darkness. They were still as breath-taking as they had been eight and a half years ago when Michael had first seen them. They still managed to make Michael’s heartbeat sped up, would continue to do so for a long while. Luke winked at him before he let his gaze fall onto the keys, his face going lax in concentration as his fingers pressed down the first combination of keys. “This is _To The Moon_.”

*

The celebratory dinner was held right after Luke had descended the stage, countless waiters appearing out of nowhere, flying by the tables and taking everyone's beverage order while a group of string players took over the stage.

Libby tried to illegally order some hard liquor and was saved by Harry who had quickly pulled out his ID when she was asked.

"I saw that." Michael commented, not looking up from his menu. Libby just shot him a cheeky grin before turning towards Harry and pressing a Thank-You-kiss to his cheek. Michael watched with fond exasperation how Harry's cheeks turned several shades redder.

Michael had found out a good half a year ago that Harry's feelings for Libby weren't as platonic as the boy made them out to be. Harry had forgotten one of his self-recorded CDs in Michael's car, something called _Heartbreak Girl_ being the only tune on it.

However Michael was pretty sure Harry wasn't the only one who wasn't truly honest about their feelings as he saw Libby glaring after the waitress who had taken Harry's order. Michael's eyes met Ashton's and they simultaneously shook their heads, Ashton's hazel eyes twinkling with the same knowledge.

He was about to say something when a cold hand wrapped around the back of his neck and his head was tilted to the side. Warm, bitten-raw lips pecked his before the hand disappeared and the chair next to him was taken.

“How was I?”

Michael pried his eyes open slowly, savouring the soft prickle Luke’s kiss had left on his lips. “Somehow _consummate_ is the only word that comes to my mind.”

Luke blushed - some things had never changed.

“ _Good_ would have sufficed.” He mumbled and opened his own menu.

“But you’re better than good.” Michael argued, placing his index finger next to Luke’s favourite meal on the card. Luke’s reply was cut off by one of the waiters appearing next to their table.

While the other man ordered, Michael sat back and surveyed their table. He saw Libby scoot closer to Harry in order to win whatever argument they were fighting out right now (which Harry would lose). He saw Calum’s fingers intertwine with Ashton’s, the gold bands around their index fingers lining up as Calum squeezed, when a tall middle-aged man with a side parting pulled his whinging son past their table. Michael saw Luke, saw the past eight years of his life.

There were the months after the surgery where Luke had stared at him. No matter if it had been on hazy weekend mornings they had spent bundled up in bed, at lunch in school or on family nights. At the most random times Michael would have looked up only to find Luke already staring at him, always the same hint of awe in his cerulean irides.

There was their first own flat in the big city and Luke’s body moving underneath him as they had made love right on the kitchen floor, hands roaming over freshly painted walls and each other’s bodies.

There were the hard times. The six months apart when Michael had done an internship at one of New York’s biggest law firms and Luke had stayed at home to study and go for ‘that music thing’. Six months filled with skype calls and late night texts, filled with the feeling of how it had been to fall asleep with his hand pressed to the screen of his laptop and Luke’s voice singing _Hey There Delilah_ for him over and over again.

Michael remembered their trips, of course, because “now that I can see, Mikey, I want to see the world.” So many countries in so many cities before Luke had put his finger on the small dot that was Sydney and said 'home'. 

Michael saw Luke, always Luke, in every form and every state of grace life had granted them. Pride filled his chest.

Michael saw Luke, who smiled at him in this very moment and a moment later crossed his eyes. Because Luke may have grown up and grown an inch taller than all of them, but he was still the dumbest fucking idiot Michael knew. Michael could feel nothing but relief at that fact. This way he was at least not the only one.

Snorting, he laid an arm around Luke’s shoulder, the other man immediately snuggling into the crook of his neck.

Lastly Michael thought about the stack of thirty pages of tax declarations, income evidence forms and essays about the both of them on his desktop at home that Janine from the adoption service had handed them after their first interview.

Slowly Michael turned and pressed a soft kiss to Luke’s lips.

Luke laughed. “What was that for?”

“Nothing.” Michael shrugged. “I’m just very proud and happy is all.”

Luke’s expression went soft, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “I knew you were a dweep, Clifford.”

“I love you too, Hemmings.”

Luke let out an offended gasp, mirth was bright in his eyes. “That’s Soon-To-Be-Clifford for you, sir. I have ten thousand people in New York City and a grainy iPhone video of your crying face as proof.”

Michael winced at the memory. Luke’s proposal was had been truly original.

“I love you, Lukey.”

“I love you too, Michael.”

After that they were whisked apart by different conversations their friends wanted to make. But that wasn’t a bad thing. Their hands much like they themselves never lost touch, if not always seeing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to end this fic with [this song](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9TNZX4t15Bw), which is pretty much the perfect description of Luke and Michael in this fic.  
> It was also the song Calum and Ashton danced to at their wedding until someone pointed out that that is "Lucky" by Jason Mraz and Colbie Callait and I couldn't agree more! Calum picked it. 
> 
> One last time: Please feel free to let me know what you think via kudos/comments or on my tumblr [mikeykink](http://mikeykink.tumblr.com/) or follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/dendroluke) so we can be friends :) 
> 
> Also a reminder that the lovely [Cat](http://mucasclemmings.tumblr.com/) made this fic a [playlist on 8tracks](http://8tracks.com/capncatherine/leave-me-blind).
> 
> xx, Carly


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